Project Chimera - The Attic Hypothesis
by Random Access Misery
Summary: At the turn of the century, a powerful corporation began splicing human and Pokémon DNA to create the perfect soldiers. After many initial failures, their efforts culminated in the highly successful Chimera project. But like the myths of old, those who play with fire-breathing monsters often get burned... Ongoing. Updates as often as possible.
1. Drowning

_Experiment: 17c3_

 _Codename: Atticus_

 _Recombination: Mew/Human_

 _Status: Active_

 _Date of Report: January 6th, 20XX_

 _Notes: Named after the Attic Hypothesis. Has the physical form of a human teenager, but possesses the ability to generate electricity. Internal structure resembles that of Mewtwo. All personnel must wear a rubber suit at all times when interacting with 17c3. Breach of conduct is liable to result in death or viscera cleanup detail._

=·=·=·=·=

Atticus woke up slowly, painfully. His body hurt all over, like someone had used him as a pincushion. The truth wasn't far off - they'd vivisected him yesterday. They hadn't used anesthetic. In his entire life, they'd only used anesthetic a handful of times. His regenerative abilities meant that he wouldn't die, but it didn't prevent him from feeling pain. He looked over at the time display on the wall. It was late morning. Not too long until they came.

Several minutes of quiet agony later, the door opened, and Professor Dogbane walked in, clipboard in hand. He was wearing the rubber suit - that stupid rubber suit! - which meant that Dogbane would be immune to his attacks. Atticus screamed internally.

"Hello, Atticus." Dogbane was the only one who referred to him by his name. Everyone else referred to him by his number.

"What're you going to do to me today? Boil me in oil?"

Dogbane laughed. "No, don't be pessimistic. We're going to see how long you can hold your breath. Underwater and buried alive. The carbon dioxide being the variable… it dissipates underwater, but not when a person is surrounded by dirt."

"You're a monster," Atticus muttered.

"The only monster here is you. Guards, take him to the testing chamber." Dogbane snapped his fingers, and two men came into the room. They grabbed Atticus by the arms as he began kicking and yelling. The larger of the two activated his weapon and bashed Atticus in the head, knocking him out.

=·=·=·=·=

When Atticus came to, he was in a large, brightly lit room. In the center of the room was a giant plastic orb, half-filled with water, which was suspended above the ground with four pillars arranged diametrically. A metal staircase led to a hatch in the side of the sphere.

"Ah, you're awake. As you might have guessed, we will be putting you inside that," Dogbane gestured toward the globe, "and then filling it the rest of the way. Hold your breath as long as you possibly can. That is all."

"When will you let me out?"

"The test ends when you begin to drown, or when you fall unconscious. Whichever happens first. Keep in mind: the more you struggle, the more oxygen and energy you waste. You will be punished for deliberately sabotaging the results. Now… put him in." Dogbane gestured toward the structure. A different pair of men seized Atticus and carried him to his impending torture and up the stairs. Resigned to his fate, he didn't resist.

They opened the hatch, a complicated process. Watching closely, Atticus observed that it was a triple redundant system: a disk tumbler lock, a keycard lock, and a retinal scan. The chamber was hermetically sealed. Then, they threw him in and resealed the door.

He floated around for what felt like an eternity. Finally, the muffled voice of Dogbane drifted toward him. "Begin test."

Atticus started hyperventilating as the sphere began filling with water. Had he been less panicked, he would have noticed that the pipe from which the water was flowing was large enough for him to swim through. But Atticus was having a panic attack. It was all he could manage to merely stay afloat.

Another eternity later, the top of his head brushed the top of the sphere, and logic briefly overrode fear. He took a deep breath, possibly his last, as the gap closed. He was surrounded on all sides by water cold as death. He could feel a tightness in his chest - was that his lungs being slowly crushed? There was an ocean above his head. Such a lethal shade of blue. The scientists had finally decided to kill him, hadn't they? He had failed for the last time. His vision began to fail, and he closed his eyes. Liquid filled his mouth, his throat, permeating his very being. Everything faded away.

=·=·=·=·=

"33 minutes, 4 seconds. Hardly what we would expect from one with Legendary DNA. Still… he did not struggle… so we can't technically punish him..." Professor Asphodel murmured.

"And we won't. What are you doing here, Asphodel?" Dogbane said. "You've been assigned to Arden." The two scientists stood idly as the lab technicians pumped the liquid out of Atticus's lungs. Asphodel chomped on his cigar as he wiped a layer of grime off his square-rimmed glasses.

"Your bad habit of naming them has always bothered me... Experiment 19c6 can wait. I came to see how 17c3 was doing. Seems to me like you've been going easy on him."

"Well. When it's your turn as his staff, you can do as you see fit. Now leave. You are shirking your responsibilities just as much as you think I am. It is not your place to tell me how to do my job."

"Not yet, at least…" Asphodel chuckled, shuffling away.

=·=·=·=·=

Atticus awoke for the third time that day in a different room. This one was nearly identical to every other testing chamber, with one major difference: unlike any room Atticus had ever been in, this one had a dirt floor. Well, Atticus assumed it was dirt. He'd never actually seen dirt before. For all he knew, it might be scatological.

"Don't tell me I'm being buried right after almost drowning…" Atticus groaned.

"You're not."

Atticus blinked. He hadn't expected that. "So what are we doing here?" He looked expectantly at Dogbane, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground, chin resting on his fists.

"We're waiting."

"For what?"

Dogbane sighed and stood up. "Think, Atticus. We need something to bury you in."

"Of course you're still going to bury me. Why would I ever get my hopes up?" Atticus whispered, tearing up.

"I said think!" Dogbane snarled, punching Atticus in the back of his head. "Why are we here, if we don't have something to bury you in?"

Atticus broke. Face twisted almost beyond recognition, he fell to the ground and curled up in a ball, hot droplets of rage and sorrow streaming from his bloodshot eyes. Dogbane kicked him in an attempt to snap him out of it, but it had no effect on the despairing boy. The professor sighed, pulling at his own hair.

"Take him back to his room," he said, waving tiredly at the guards. "We're done here."


	2. The Energy

_Experiment: 17c3_

 _Codename: Atticus_

 _Recombination: Mew/Human_

 _Status: Active_

 _Date of Report: January 7th, 20XX_

 _Notes: 17c3 has grown up in isolation apart from the presence of myself and a few others. The emotional well-being of the subject is rapidly deteriorating. I have suggested that we move him out of solitary confinement. The Board of Directors is convening soon to discuss my proposal._

=·=·=·=·=

A new day, a new disaster. Atticus lay splayed out on the floor of his cell, staring vacantly at the ceiling. It felt like the walls could close in at any second. The pipes were dripping, ready to burst and flood his room. He could hear them. Or maybe it was just his imagination.

His eyes drifted to the clock. He didn't actually care what the time was, but glancing at the clock… it was habitual. He'd learned very early on that at certain times, the bad men came and hurt him. A wave of shock energized his turbid mind as he realized that it was past time for Dogbane to whisk him away. For the first time in his entire life, the scientists were late!

Atticus jumped to his feet and began pacing around his room uneasily. It was, as far as cells go, rather spacious. Atticus was just under six feet in height; the ceiling was three feet above his head. A quick mental calculation indicated that the room had a perimeter of 40 feet. Rather luxurious for a prison.

Sterile white lights shone on a metal floor devoid of furnishing. There were no windows, save for the vantaglass pane which served as the door to the hall. It was, overall, a really boring place. He'd lived here for over a decade.

Finally, the professor walked in. Well, it was more of a shuffle than a walk. He was frowning, as usual, but the frown was… different, somehow. Dogbane had never shown reluctance before. What was going on?

"Hello, Atticus," Dogbane said quietly, leaning against the door.

"Dogbane. What's happening?"

Dogbane was quiet for a moment. Then, out of nowhere: "I'm sorry," the man said.

Atticus stared at him, not comprehending. He'd never heard the word before. "Unknown phrase. Define."

"Hmm." Dogbane shook his head. "You have the same golden hair as the woman who gave her biological material to create you. But it's times like these that remind me of the fact that under that skin, you're just an animal."

"Yeah, whatever…" Atticus sniffed. "What fresh new torture do you have in mind for me today?"

"Oh, it'll be torture, all right." The professor leaned against the wall and smiled as he began knocking his fist against it rhythmically.

After several seconds of this and nothing else, Atticus asked, "What are you doing?"

The professor sighed. "You're going to be learning a new language, of sorts. It's a secret code, developed during the Great Pokémon War. It is referred to as cryptography."

"Why do I need to learn this code?"

"Because it will greatly benefit you over the course of these next few months. After I…" He hesitated. "Well, it's important, at any rate." Dogbane reached out and ruffled the boy's hair, the way someone would pet an animal. "You'll see. Now, let's begin."

Atticus was initially suspicious. He hadn't been taught anything for years and years - almost everything he knew was from observation and analysis. He certainly hadn't been taught language.

They started with the code for individual letters, which didn't take very long to learn. Atticus assumed that he could easily extrapolate whole words from those letters. He started to sound out 'Greetings', but the professor interrupted him.

"Slow down, boy. In wartime, taking the time to spell out overly complex words is almost guaranteed to end poorly. There's some shorthand you ought to know."

His assumption turned out to be flawed. He never would have guessed that 'Hi' was a short salutation. _Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap._ There were many contractions, abbreviations, and acronyms that Atticus never could have conceived of. He learned how to say hello and how to say goodbye. How to say go and how to say stop. How to say now and how to say never.

Minutes turned into hours. As time passed without any cruel surprises, his fears faded and he found he was actually able to enjoy his time with Professor Dogbane. They didn't talk about anything other than language, but that was okay. Atticus didn't care about the man's private life. The only person he cared about was himself. There was no one else.

A sharp chime sounded from the door. Lunch time. Dogbane left, presumably to get decent food rather than the slop they fed Atticus, and a guard entered the room to serve his meal. Today, it was a lurid orange mash with an acrid odor. As Atticus stared at it, he realized that it was pulsating slightly. At least it wasn't glowing this time. With a shudder, he grabbed a handful from the bucket and began choking it down. He wasn't allowed to use utensils - not since the spoon incident. The paste was spicy and sour, and it stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"What are you feeding me?" he coughed.

It was a rhetorical question, so Atticus was surprised when the guard shrugged and muttered, "Don't ask me. I'm only hired muscle."

"Oh! What's your name?"

"Just eat your slop."

Atticus was able to force himself to ingest another few handfuls. As disgusting as the food was, Atticus had no delusion that he'd ever receive anything better, and he had to eat. Even if he refused, they wouldn't let him starve; they'd stick a bunch of tubes and syringes in his body and deliver nutrients directly to his system. This was less painful. The buzzer rang, and the guard took his food away.

A while thereafter, Dogbane returned. "I don't have much else to teach you. I don't actually know the code that well. But you should practice it, on your own time."

"If you don't know it, why are you teaching me it?"

The man muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?"

Professor Dogbane shook his head. "Nothing. I've said too much." He glanced at his watch. "It's time for your test."

Atticus groaned as the guards came into the room. The scientists were constantly pushing the limits of his abilities. He knew he was a disappointment to them - they had wanted a powerful psychic, and they'd gotten a dynamo. Despite the fact that he'd never displayed any abilities beyond his electrokinesis, they still conducted tests on him.

This test was to measure how many volts he could produce. The lab technicians wired him up to a large metal device; it was his job to pump as much power into the device as he possibly could. Atticus's electrokinesis capped out at around 1.3 billion volts, but he had to sustain his charge for a fairly long time before he reached that. If he could discharge that amount at will, he would have escaped a long time ago. As it was, Atticus couldn't penetrate the scientists' thick rubber suits with his electricity.

Apart from the machine that the boy was wired to, the rest of the room was designed specifically to retard electric currents. Professor Dogbane and the lab technicians watched the show from behind the safety of an earthed moinvar screen.

"Test begins," one of the technicians said into a microphone. "Experiment 17c3, go."

Atticus took a deep breath and began discharging. He wasn't sure how he did it, exactly. It was instinctual, like moving one's arm. Unlike moving one's arm, it wore him out a lot more than simple physical activity. Normally, he would produce energy in a steady stream for as long as he could; this time, however, he decided to do something different.

"Four watts. Ten watts. Twenty. Holding at twenty-two watts."

"Hey, that's way below the threshold. What's your game?"

"Stupid animal. Can't even do the one thing it's supposed to be good at."

Instead of releasing the energy steadily, Atticus directed it inwards. The difference was immediately noticeable to him as a monumental pressure built up in his chest, quickly becoming painful. But Atticus was no stranger to pain, so he pushed the electrical potential deeper and deeper, forcing it to take the path of greatest resistance.

"Voltage steadily decreasing. Eighteen watts. Sixteen watts."

"Maybe the machine is broken."

When he couldn't hold it in any longer, vision starting to break, he released it in a glorious cacophony. A corona of light surrounded his body as a vibrant bolt of cerulean plasma screamed joyously through the air towards the scientists, Atticus roaring along with it. The grounded metal cage intercepted his energy, promptly melting into an amorphous imitation of its former visage. The scientists were protected from the electrical current but not the scorching heat produced as a byproduct: all of them broke out sweating, their rubber suits charred by the blast, and several of them would later need to be treated for severe burns. The poor machine, whose only purpose in life was to measure a recombinant's energy output, was overloaded from the surge of raw power by many magnitudes and practically disintegrated as the unnatural light faded.

"Merciful Palkia!" someone stuttered.

"What in Arceus' name was that?!" Dogbane shouted, his voice a mixture of terror, awe, and righteous indignation. "Restrain him!"

As the shocked guards came to their senses and tackled Atticus, a technician held aloft his display screen with a trembling hand. "The last reading we got was several times his recorded maximum." The room came alive with murmuring.

"More than 1.21 gigawatts! Released in a fraction of a second!"

"Same-type attack bonus, perhaps."

"Think of what this means for the energy industry!"

"It's an anomaly. And even if it can be repeated, it's of no use against Ground types."

Professor Dogbane extricated himself from the wreckage and walked over to where Atticus lay, waving for the soldiers to take him back to his room. Gazing into the middle distance, the older man contemplated this startling turn of events with a wistful frown.

"What hidden depths do you have, child of Mew?"


	3. Life in Vitro

_Experiment: 17c3_

 _Codename: Atticus_

 _Recombination: Mew/Human_

 _Status: Active_

 _Date of Report: Jan 12, 20XX_

 _Notes: On recommendation from Professor Dogbane, the Board of Directors have decreed that 17c3 and 24c1 are to be drugged and moved to neighboring cells. Between them is a sheet of special glass, detailed in another report. We will record their reaction when they awaken. They will be allotted time to get acquainted before regular testing resumes._

=·=·=·=·=

"Up and at 'em, sparky! We have a big day ahead of us!"

Atticus groaned and rubbed the goo out of his eyes. It was Professor Nightshade's shift. While not the worst of the bunch, Nightshade showed a level of exuberance toward his job that was perhaps more disturbing than the inhuman nature of the other scientists.

"First order of the day!" Nightshade barked, sipping coffee from a plastic mug. "One of my personal favorites."

"Child abuse?"

"You're an arrogant mutt, aren't you?" the man laughed. "As if you could ever be human! No. We're going to pump deadly neurotoxins directly into your bloodstream! What fun!"

Atticus yelped and backed into a corner as Nightshade advanced with a needle in his hand, dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Mind you, this isn't a lethal injection," he chuckled, tapping the syringe. "You're going to take a little sleepy sleep. Then, the real entertainment will begin!"

"Why don't you just drag me out while I'm already asleep? And why are you idiots never ready before I wake up?"

Nightshade paused. "Uh…" He shrugged. "Don't know, don't care."

"You're terrible!"

The professor grinned and lunged at Atticus, stabbing the needle into his jugular. Atticus cried in protest and tried to push him away, but the plunger had already lowered. The boy's eyelids grew heavy as Nightshade muttered to himself, drinking his coffee.

"Really, you should be glad I don't have the guards beat you down, like all my coworkers do. They really go above and beyond the call of duty. Bunch of savages." He glared into his mug with a critical eye. "I miss my Unova roast."

=·=·=·=·=

 _Tap click. Tap, click tap. Tap. Click, tap, click click. Click, click click. Tap, tap, click. Tap tap tap. Click, tap, click._

Was that Professor Dogbane? Atticus felt so tired… he just wanted to fall back asleep and never wake up.

 _Tap, click click. Tap click. Click, tap, click. Tap. Tap, tap, click. Tap click click tap._

The noise continued despite Atticus's best efforts to ignore it. Reluctantly and without urgency, the boy opened his eyes. After staring at the wall for a few seconds, he sat up with a start. This wasn't his room!

There was more knocking. He turned toward the source, and his jaw dropped. Where a wall should have been, there was a pane of glass, and on the other side of that glass was another teenager! A girl with creamy white skin and bright green eyes was kneeling gracefully, alabaster dress tucked beneath, looking at him with concern etched into her soft features. Royal blue hair curled behind the three fins that extended from each side of her delicate face. Extending from her elbows were two long blades. On anyone else, the blades would look awkward, but the girl carried herself with a deadly elegance.

"Are you okay?" the girl signaled, one hand pressed against the pane while the other knocked. Her arms were completely covered by her low-cropped shirt. Atticus was having trouble deciding whether the viridescent spike nestled between her breasts was decorative or part of her anatomy.

He crawled up to the wall, hesitantly putting his hand where hers was on the other side. The two of them locked gazes. "I… is this some kind of trick?" he replied. "What are you?"

"I don't think it's a trick…" He saw her chuckle. "I'm a recombinant. Just like you, I presume. From the way they treated you."

"Yes… I have Mew DNA. I figured you were one as well. What kind?"

"Gardevoir and Gallade. Highly compatible genetics."

"What's your name?"

The girl looked away with a frown. "I do not have a name. I am called 24c1."

A tentative smile spread across Atticus's face. "My name is Atticus. And yours will be… Mirage."

She met his eyes again. "Why Mirage?"

"Because you're so beautiful, I'm afraid you'll disappear before my eyes."

She looked at him, her face turning a lovely shade of pink. Then, she beamed from fin to fin.

"You're too nice… I haven't done anything to deserve this," she finally responded.

"I'd say that after being tortured our whole lives, it's about time something good happened."

"They're almost definitely planning something awful. This isn't a reward."

"Agreed. But… let's enjoy it while we can."

"You kidding?" She pressed her forehead against the glass, wearing an intense grin. Atticus felt his own face growing hot. "I'm already enjoying it."

Nightshade cleared his throat. Atticus jumped and whirled around. Mirage took a similar stance. There was no one else there.

"Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds. Could you kindly glance toward the ceiling?" The two recombinants looked up to see two small metal disks affixed to the roof in each section of the cell. The disks quivered as a voice emanated.

"Er, yes. We've installed these speakers, so that you can both hear my melodious voice at the same time. Also, you'll notice security cameras in the corners. So you don't require direct supervision in the room anymore. No shenanigans, you cameras are made out of moinvar. You could pry or cut them off - 24c1, I'm looking at you - but if you manage to do so, you will be punished."

"It's lunch time now," the man continued. "You may continue communicating while you eat, if you wish. I can't imagine why you wouldn't want to do so. But after that, regular testing will recommence."

Some men brought in their food. His was a dry, grainy, pale red solid, cut into little bricks. It was savory and sweet. Not a bad flavor, but the texture was something else altogether. It didn't make him choke, if nothing else. The cubes were accompanied by a small glass of water. Shudder.

Atticus looked over to see what Mirage was eating. She was busy dragging strips of meat through a thick black gravy. She glanced at him.

"It's not as good as it looks."

"Better than mine."

She shrugged. "I wouldn't know. It's not fair to judge, anyway."

Atticus snorted. Then, realizing that she couldn't hear him, he replied, "Sure."

Mirage shook her head. "What can you do?"

"Electricity. That's about it."

"You said you're part Mew. You can't shapeshift, or move stuff with your-"

"Let's not talk about that, alright?" Atticus interrupted. "I'm kind of a disappointment. What are your moves?"

The girl grinned. "I have all the right moves. That's why you like me, isn't it?"

"Ha, ha," Atticus signaled, his face growing warm. "Seriously."

"Okay, okay. You may have noticed my arms. With these, I can slice a man like a coconut. Regular steel and stone are like butter."

"Wow. What are your arms made out of?" Atticus asked with awe.

"Just flesh. Fortified with psychic energy."

"Are they retractable?"

Mirage grimaced. "They're supposed to be. You're not the only disappointment around here. Apparently, they're much tougher than a normal Gallade's, since they're under constant psychokinetic pressure."

Atticus thought about this. "Can you cut through-"

"Negative. Were it only a normal material… I can scratch the glass, but barely." She pressed the tip of her left elbow to the glass and dragged it downwards. It made a horrendous screeching noise.

"24c1, cut that out," the loudspeaker ordered. In reply, Mirage turned to face the camera and raised her middle finger at it.

"Wha- who taught you that! Was it Cypress? I wouldn't put it past that incautious fool. And you have the audacity to flip me off? Lunch time is over, you mangy little bitch."

A soldier came in and yanked Mirage's half-eaten meal out of her hands. When she protested, the armored troop backhanded her across the jaw, sending her to the floor.

"Hey!" Atticus shouted. "What was that for?"

The professor merely laughed. "17c3, since when do you care about other people? Don't think you're off the hook. My earlier statement was not a false pretense. We really are going to be injecting neurotoxins into your bloodstream."

Atticus's eyes widened, forgetting all about his new friend. He started breathing raggedly, lost in selfish panic.

"Atticus. You're going to be okay."

It was Mirage, wiping blood from her mouth with one hand as she consoled him with the other. The boy turned and stared at her. "How can you say that? How can you be so… so positive?" he signed, but her gentle smile was already calming him down.

"We're still alive, aren't we? They try so hard, but we're stronger than them. Besides, I'll be here for you at the end of the day. Right? We'll see each other again." Her eyes sparkled in the harsh light.

He nodded, his nerves relaxed, as the guards came in to take him away. Her tenacity was the perfect antithesis to his self-doubt. And as she waved him farewell, he felt something he scarcely recognized. Something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

Hope.

=·=·=·=·=

 _Experiment: 2g4_

 _Codename: Vantaglass_

 _Notes: Variable Absorber of aNy Type Attack. Power-dampening plastic. Transparent. For use in recombinant cells only. Synthesized primarily from the slime of a Gastrodon and shell fragments of a Shedinja. In some cases, may need to be reinforced._


	4. Guts

_Experiment: 17c3_

 _Codename: Atticus_

 _Recombination: Mew/Human_

 _Status: Active_

 _Date of Report: January 13th, 20XX_

 _Notes: 17c3 and 24c1 bonded immediately. This is not surprising, as they are both reaching maturity. The initial plan was to see how their relational dynamic evolved over the course of several weeks, but plans change._

=·=·=·=·=

"Do you dream?" Mirage asked. It was early morning. The professors would just be waking up, but Atticus hadn't slept - his body and mind still writhing from the toxins - so she had stayed awake all night to keep him company. He'd appreciate it more if his brain didn't hurt so much.

Atticus shook his head. "Not really. Nothing to dream about." They didn't have nightmares, either. Reality was far worse than anything their subconscious minds could come up with, especially given their narrow scope of experience. Sleep was an escape, but with nowhere to go, it was often just a void.

"There's one dream I have." Mirage smiled. "Full of color and laughter."

Atticus rolled his eyes at how unrealistic it was. "What's the point? This is all there is. All there can ever be."

"Don't say that!" She was pacing across the length of the vantaglass wall, dress flowing as she moved. Atticus couldn't help but notice her hips swing. "Don't say that. I want to leave, someday."

"And go where?"

"I don't know… The professors have to come from somewhere."

The boy shrugged. "It doesn't matter. We will be here until the day they kill us."

"Hmm." Mirage pursed her lips. "Well, hopefully we'll die together." She grinned at him. Atticus knew it was pointless, but her sanguine was contagious. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

"What're you bitzers doing up this early? Don't make me flog you." Professor Heath's rough drawl yawned through the speakers. "Oi, Ajax, where's my coffee? Eh? No, it's not still on. What do you mean, it doesn't turn off when I… ah." The voice cut off with a squawk.

Atticus looked into Mirage's eyes. When he didn't look away, she blushed and asked, "What?"

"I'm prepping myself for today's horrors. I want to be able to remember you when you're gone."

"I'll be here at the end of the day, Atticus."

He glanced away, sheepish. "Yeah. You're right."

The two of them sat quietly for several minutes, the missed moment draping their cell with thorns. Finally, Mirage broke the silence.

"Look, Atticus." They locked gazes once again. "I… you're the only person…" She struggled for words, their vocabulary limited to words the professors and guards used.

"Sorry?" Atticus shrugged.

Mirage blinked. Her eyes were moist, but she was smiling. "I don't know what that means."

"Neither do I."

He could see her laughing through the plastic.

Atticus laughed, too. "Any usage of the word I come up with is almost definitely wrong."

"Who cares? You said it yourself; we'll be here 'til the day we die."

"Don't say that," Atticus echoed. "You're my smile."

Mirage put a hand on her cheek as she flushed. "Alright, then. I guess I'm your smile."

"And I'm your frown. You two are disgusting me," Heath said. "We'll be starting soon. Hit the anchor."

The two teenagers settled down, awaiting the punishments of the day. Sure enough, only a few minutes later, soldiers arrived to whisk them away. Atticus noted with care that while the men who came to his room were wearing rubber suits, the men in Mirage's cell wore plated armor - clearly, each guard was tailored to suit the individual recombinant's needs.

"What's up, doc?" Atticus said with a smile.

The professor eyed him skeptically, putting a blindfold over the boy's eyes. "You're oddly cheerful. You're normally as riotous as an Exploud. We're going to be cutting out some of your non-vital organs."

"Non-vital?"

"We want to see if you can regrow entire organs. We'll be preserving what we remove, just in case you… uh… can't." The man scratched his nose. "Your nonchalance is off-putting."

"Sorry. Here," Atticus replied as he started to thrash around half-heartedly. "No… let go of me! Ahh."

"Hmph. I'm embarrassed for you. You'll start yelling when you get disemboweled, I guess."

"What's happening to Mirage?"

Heath grunted. "Not my jurisdiction. I think they're running endurance and reflex tests on her. It's mostly to do with her blades. Nasty things, those. They shoot fruit at her, and she cuts them out of the air."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

The blindfold came off, and Heath's gaunt features came into view. "It's not. You're… very attached to her, aren't you?" A conniving look came over the man's face. "Hmm. Beware the spunky ones, is what I always say. Lie down."

Atticus did as he was told, not seeing the point in resistance, which would not only be futile but also might decrease his chances of seeing Mirage again. Someone removed his shirt, and as he was strapped to the table by two lab technicians, Professor Heath walked over to a small cabinet and donned specialized surgical clothing, halfway between traditional operating scrubs and the ubiquitous rubber suits. It wasn't that Atticus would try to electrocute the scientists while they were sticking metal in his body - it's generally a bad thing when the surgeon starts twitching in the middle of dissection - but he had a tendency to send out small jolts when in pain. They also had to attach a breathing apparatus to his head; since lungs by themselves have no muscles, when the abdomen is opened to the air the diaphragm ceases to function.

Heath arrived at the table, scalpel in hand, and made his primary incision. They cut a line down Atticus's body, from the base of the neck to the waist, and another parallel line beneath his chest. He clenched his teeth and suffered silently as the scientists peeled back the skin and fatty tissue, exposing his musculature to the cold air. Needless to say, without anesthesia, it was excruciatingly painful.

"Coag," Heath muttered, holding out a hand. Short for coagulation device, the small machine was used to prevent unnecessary blood loss by cauterizing blood vessels. Bloody tools and hands were a slippery recipe for disaster in surgical settings. Of course, with Atticus's regeneration, the coag alone was not enough. After burning his veins, the lab technicians had to manually tie up the ends of his blood vessels with sutures.

Rivulets of saline suffering ran down the boy's face as the men cut through his muscles, finally reaching the visceral treasure trove beneath. Professor Heath stepped back from the operating table to wipe away his own sweat, caused not by pain but by the brilliant illumination in the room.

"Since we'll want to be able to put these back in, if necessary…" the man said, "we'll have to connect your tubes in ways that they, well, just aren't normally connected. It'll cause some discomfort. You might find yourself, um, coughing up blood. But it's better than hemorrhaging." He picked up a vial of milky serum. "The immune system is selfish, concerned only with itself. It will even destroy the body it calls host. Sort of like you, 17c3. This stuff will mitigate any autoimmune disease symptoms you experience."

Heath carefully injected the serum right into Atticus's stomach. The onset of pain was immediate, but dwindled gradually as his cells sealed the breach. Atticus was aware of the fact that for anyone else, a gastrointestinal perforation would almost certainly be fatal, even with maximum treatment.

They removed his spleen, his gallbladder, one of his kidneys, and his stomach. His small bowel was reconnected to his oesophagus, while the far end of the duodenum was connected to his small bowel, allowing the bile and pancreatic ducts to continue to drain into the duodenum. Several other tubes were simply tied off, in a way so that if they tried to regrow they wouldn't be impeded.

Finally, they restored his blood vessels to their natural position, folded his skin and muscles in their proper places, and stitched them back together like some kind of grotesque patchwork doll. His flesh immediately set out rejuvenating itself, gory lines scarring over and those scars, in turn, fading to pale lines as they were replaced with new tissue. The surgeons placed his removed organs in special containers and whisked them away for storage.

"Can… I…" Atticus wheezed as his breathing came more easily. "Can I… see Mirage… now?"

The professor was busy washing his hands. "You want to see the girl?" There was an uncharacteristic pause. "Yes. I suppose you can. She's probably done with her tests. And it is mid-arvo."

"Will I… be able to… eat?"

"Not your normal food. You'll be on a special diet."

The blindfold was put back over Atticus's eyes. It was ostensibly to prevent him from knowing the layout of the facility, though he had relatively good spatial recall. Part of it was to ensure that he didn't see any other experiments. They took a different route to his room than the one they had taken on the way to the operating room. This path was shorter, but they had to round more corners.

"Hi, Atticus. Are you alright?"

They had arrived. Professor Heath removed the cloth from the boy's head, and Atticus smiled weakly at his recombinant friend. She was already working on lunch.

"As much as I can be." He lifted his shirt, showing her his cicatrices. Mirage winced.

A rubbersuit brought in his meal, a creamy stew with bits of green and brown; slightly minty, but the predominant flavor was that of meat. It was, in fact, one of the best things he'd ever eaten. He glanced over at Mirage, who was finishing off a doughy toroid filled with beans.

"Are you sure they didn't mix up our meal plans?"

"Ha, ha. I told you, my food isn't anything special." She prodded one of the rings. "These are rather bitter."

Atticus rolled his eyes and took another sip from his bowl. "How were your tests?"

"My arms are still sore, and I've got some bad bruises. They throw rocks at me, basically. Over and over."

"And you're supposed to cut them from the air."  
She nodded. "In theory."  
"I wish I could be as tough as you…" Atticus said sheepishly, tracing circles on the floor with his hand.

Mirage shook her head vigorously. "You're more resilient than I am, I think. If I had to go through the stuff you have to go through every day, I don't think I could do it and still be the same person. You, on the other hand… Atticus, you're invincible."

=·=·=·=·=

"Take advantage of his emotional dependency. Maim, don't kill. Got it." Heath was on the phone, gazing detachedly at the monitors. "You want me to do it in the cell? It's going to be messy. I'm not cleaning it up. No, I can't 'just tell my men to do it'. They're soldiers, not servants."

One of the other men in the room looked up from his crossword with a vexed look on his face. He opened his mouth as if to ask a question, then sighed and turned back to his puzzle.

"Fine. Yeah, I know. I don't see any reason to restrain the boy, only 24c1. I will. No, I'm not going to record the proceedings for your viewing pleasure. Slow your roll. I just work here. And, may I remind you, you're the only reason I work here to begin with."

Ajax, the unpaid intern, started snoring in the corner.

"Someone wake that boofhead up," Heath said to the room in general. He turned his attention back to the phone. "Dead set. I'm no blow-in, Cypress. We'll get started any tick of the clock, and Bob's your uncle. I'll see you when I get home. Love you too. Cheerio." He snapped the phone shut and turned to his men. "Get ready."

=·=·=·=·=

The guards came in and took away Mirage's food, but they left Atticus alone. Since he had no stomach, he needed all the extra calories he could get. So Mirage talked to him while he carefully ate his chowder, both of them waiting for the next test.

"What's with the clothes? Are they clothes, or…" Atticus asked.

"They're not attached to my body, if that's what you mean. The professors have always told me it's a cultural thing. All Gardevoir wear dresses - even the males."

"And… the spike?" Atticus pointed at his own chest.

"It's actually-"

"Stop talking, both of you," Heath interrupted. "It's time."

Some men walked into Mirage's cell and grabbed her by the arms, holding her in place. When she struggled, another guard grabbed a fistful of her air and pulled her head back.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Atticus shouted.

"Unfortunately… experiment 24c1 has been deemed a failure. Due to this, and as a result of her recent behavior, she is being put down." The professor walked into the room, blade in hand. Mirage's eyes filled with tears as she squirmed against her restraint.

"No!" Atticus began beating on the glass with his fists. His own tears were starting to flow. He heaved as a spurt of candy-red juice forced itself out of his throat, splattering on the transparent barrier.

Heath strolled over to the female recombinant and pressed his weapon against her neck.

"No!" There was an incredible pressure behind the boy's eyes as he watched his hopes fade away. "No!"

The blade began to cut into her soft flesh, and blood started to pool around the cold steel.

"I SAID NO!"

Time decelerated. Atticus screamed as he pummeled the plastic with all his might, violet eyes starting to glow, and the wall of vantaglass exploded. A wave of air pressure propagated from his clenched fist. Heath turned his head in slow motion toward the young man, eyes wide with shock, as the shards of glass drilled into the professor and his men at high velocity, piercing their armor and slamming them to the far side of the chamber. There they hung, pinned to the wall by the three-inch-long fragments. Vital fluid began to flow freely from the soldier's many wounds. Two of them expired immediately, but Professor Heath was not so lucky, left to regret his life decisions as they flashed before his eyes. Mirage and Atticus were untouched.

An alarm started wailing. "Code Indigo. Evacuate! Code Indigo. Evacuate!" it cried.

Atticus gaped with astonishment at his hand, then looked to his friend. "Mirage! Are you oka-"

"Don't hurt me!" she whimpered in terror, dulcet voice trembling. She flinched as he stepped toward her.

He froze. "Mirage, I… I was just trying to save-" Atticus started choking and collapsed, copper ichor bursting from his lips.

"Atticus! Oh, no," she whispered, realizing the betrayal of trust she'd committed. She rushed to his side, empathy for her only companion overriding survival instinct. "What did they do to you?!"

"It's just… no big deal. They… cut out my stomach…" he coughed.

"No, no, no. You don't get hemoptysis from successful gastrectomies. They must've damaged your bronchial tract. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was accidental," she said, frowning disconsolately.

"Heh heh… guess it's my… expiration date."

"No. I can't accept that." She placed her hands on his chest and closed her eyes in concentration. A mellow radiance surrounded them. "I won't accept that."

"...What? What are you… doing?"

"Healing Pulse."

Atticus gasped as his system was flooded with energy, revitalizing his tired bones - like his regeneration, but a hundred million times faster. It was primal, and painful, like his body was ripping itself apart so that it could mend. He felt more full than he'd felt even before they had removed his innards. The blood stopped.

Mirage helped him to his feet. With no immediate crisis, Atticus became aware of the evacuation alert. He slowly grinned, the implications not lost on him.

"What are you smiling at? They're going to kill us."

"Somehow… I doubt that's the first thing on their minds." He limped over to the door. "They're evacuating. This place is going to be mostly empty. And our room…" he started laughing, "all our guards are dead."

The girl's pupils dilated. She smiled, too. "Can you… you know…" She began shadowboxing.

"I don't think so," Atticus muttered, brow furrowed. "That had a very specific feel to it, and I'm not feeling it. But… I kinda think…" He pressed his palm against the door lock and emulated his electrical surge of the other day. It came more easily this time, and the door slid open with a click. From behind, Mirage giggled and ruffled his hair. He turned to her with a quizzical look.

"Your hair got all puffy when you did that." She smiled.

Atticus gave a good-natured sigh. He started to leave the room, but hesitated at the door. "This… is the first time I've ever left my room of my own volition." He took a deep breath and crossed the threshold.

Mirage chuckled as she followed suit. "Lead on, oh fearless leader. Do you know how to get out of here?"

He nodded, scanning the hall. "More or less. But we've got a job to do." He found what he was looking for and walked toward it. Another door. Once there, he slammed his hand to the lock and sent a pulse of electricity into it.

"We don't have time to save every other recombinant," Mirage said worriedly, glancing around. She expected guards to show up at any minute.

The door slid open, but there was no one inside the cell. "I can't leave them!" he shouted.

"But-"

"They're people too!" He clenched his fists at his sides, head bowed. Then he stalked off to the next cell. It was empty as well.

"You're right. I'm… sorry."

Atticus stopped and turned, looking her in the eyes. He couldn't stay angry at her. His scowl waned. "That actually… sounds right." Her chest swelled with pride.

Suddenly, there was a loud rapping at the end of the hallway. The two of them turned with a start. Mirage backed away, but Atticus, against all common sense, dashed toward it. It was coming from behind one of the doors!

He rounded the corner and came face to face with one of the remaining soldiers. Evidently, they'd heard the knock as well.

"Recombinants LOS!" the unit barked, leveling the barrel of his submachine gun at his target. "You have the right to scream your head off!"

Atticus was caught by surprise and would have fallen to the drum of buckshot if not for Mirage. With lightning fast reflexes, the girl leapt in front of him, deflected a bullet, and chopped the soldier's head off with one clean stroke.

"I thought you were afraid of me."

She shook her head, eyes moist. "I shouldn't have been. I'm not going to let you dirty your hands alone."

The hatch opened on a dark room. Atticus squinted against the haze.

"Psst. Hey, buddy. Yeah, you," someone whispered from within. "Boy, do I have a great deal for you. An offer you can't refuse. The real McCoy."

"What?" Atticus asked, bewildered.

"Roll me outta here, and I'll shed some light on the whole shebang." A large, spiky mass shifted in the shadows. "Help me to help you to help… uh… you know what I'm saying."

"No, not really."

The recombinant sighed. "Really? That's really how we're going to play this? I can't move, you schmuck."

"Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry." Atticus scuttled in and seized the fellow, heaving him out into the light. As the rays of fluorescence hit the recombinant, they scattered, dazzling him and Mirage.

"Boom! Wait. You're not a guard. What is this? What is going on?" the purple and gold clam exclaimed, rolling away from the two teenagers. Where a pearl should have been was a sparkling crimson gemstone.

"You said you couldn't move!" Atticus accused.

"I'm photoambulatory! I can't move without light. Who are you?" The recombinant glanced around, recoiling at the sight of the decapitated soldier.

"Atticus. This is Mirage. We're breaking out of here," Atticus replied tersely. "What are you, and what's your purpose?"

"The name is Glint. I'm a glorified cash cow. Gold, mother of pearl. I might as well crap diamonds."

Mirage blanched. "So they-"

"Yes."

"And-"

"Moving on!" Atticus clapped his hands. "Glint, do you know where any other recombinants are?"

Glint's eye - Atticus assumed the gem was his eye - pulsed softly. "We're in the Delta block. Experiments are placed according to a base twelve positional matrix, so we should find others in every cell ending with digits that are factors of the radix."

The two humanoids stared at Glint with blank expressions. He sighed.

"I was in cell six. You would have been in cell four. Within Delta block, that leaves cells two, three, twelve, and the dot dot dot."

"You mean we were right next to another recombinant!" Atticus dashed off.

"Atticus! We don't have time! They'll send reinforcements!" Mirage shouted, chasing after him.

Glint rolled his eye. "Guess I'm a part of this, whether I like it or not," he said to himself, spinning after his two new accomplices.

They charged recklessly around the corner, only to find two guards doing the same. Both of them carried serious heat, and unlike the guard from before, these men were entirely without ruth.

"Targets LOS! Engaging!" one called into his communicator as they opened fire. Atticus and Mirage raised their arms in defense, caught by surprise and helpless to the onslaught, but Glint jumped in front of them and began gyrating rapidly. The shots glanced off his hide and were thrown wildly off course by his rotation. Now it was the soldiers' turn to be surprised.

"Disengage!" they yelled, running off, but it was too late. Glint tore off after them and slammed the men with his massive frame, crushing them to death. Atticus gaped.

"You said you were a cash cow!"

Glint said nothing, moving toward the occupied cell and humming softly to himself. The three of them went inside. Their stomachs began growling immediately, for the room was filled with food. Piles of roasted and fried meat; mounds of bread and cakes galore. Standing in the midst of this mess was a large, rotund, pink recombinant. The creature's eyes were closed, and if it had noticed them, it gave no indication.

"Uh, hello?" Atticus said, walking up to the person. "Are you awake?" Standing right in front of the recombinant, he had to crane his neck to see its face.

The pink thing inhaled deeply and opened its mouth. What came out next was not a sentence, but a tongue as long as the recombinant was tall. Atticus yelped as the tongue ploughed into him, knocking him down and pinning him to the floor.

"Hostile!" Mirage hissed, blades poised to strike.

"Hothtile? I'm Thmorguth. What'th going on?"

"Get off me!" Atticus shouted.

"Thmorguth?" Mirage asked, lowering her arms.

"No, not Thmorguth. Thmorguth."

"But you just said-"

"Am I chopped liver!"

"I think he said Smorgas," Glint whispered.

"Oh, I get it. What kind of recombinant?"

"Thnorlackth and Lickilicki."

"Snorlax and-"

"I've got it now, thanks."

"HEY!" Atticus hollered. "I am still the de facto leader here, and I'm being drenched in saliva!"

Smorgas stepped back, slurring apologies. Atticus stood and made a inefficacious attempt to wipe the spit off his body, muttering under his breath.

"We're going to need to split up."

"How are we going to do that? We need you to short-circuit the locks."

Glint wobbled back and forth. "Not necessarily. The locks are designed specifically against the recombinant within the cell. So, my lock was waterproof. Many of them will be simple pressure pads. And if that fails…"

"Improvithe," Smorgas nodded.

After Glint briefly explained the positional matrix to the newest member of their rag-tag group, the four of them split up. Atticus went toward the cells with higher numerals, Mirage close behind. Smorgas struggled to keep up the pace, but was actually surprisingly fast for a person of his size. He left them at cell thirteen, panting rapidly. Atticus expected Mirage to stop at cell fourteen, but she shook her head.

"I'm staying with you."

"Mirage…"

"I'm not living vicariously," she insisted, shaking her head.

"What does that even mean?"

She flushed. "I… I feel like we missed a moment. When you saved me and I…" Covering her face with her hands, she glanced away and muttered, "Besides, someone's got to look after you."

Atticus harrumphed, not having fully forgiven her. "Fine. Let's just get through this."

This chamber was filled with large rocks, the floor covered in sand. There didn't appear to be anyone inside, but why would an empty chamber be so painstakingly designed? Thinking that the person within might be disguised as a rock, somehow, the two of them entered.

"Anyone home?" Atticus called out. There was a blur, almost too fast for the eye to follow, and suddenly there was a weapon in his face. He'd barely dodged what would have been a nasty blow to the skull.

"Impressive reflexes. But not as good as Professor Monkey-puzzle. You are not trained in the martial arts," a tall, bipedal recombinant said calmly. He looked vaguely avian, and wore another animal's skull over his own. He was also the same color as the ground, which explained why they hadn't seen him.

"Uh… no," Atticus replied, pushing the boy's weapon, a bone as long as he was tall, out of his face. "I'm sorry, but who…?"

"Ah. My apologies. I am called Arden." Without another word, the boy walked out, waiting for them in the hall.

"Glad you're preemptive about this," Atticus muttered as he followed. He told Arden where to go next before taking off with Mirage.

The next cell was, strangely, devoid of steel. The walls and floor were covered in wood. Once again, the recombinant was not in sight.

"Hey! You're big."

Atticus jumped. Hovering beside his head was the smallest creature he'd ever seen. It had a long, grey body with a large eye set into the center of its head. There were two screws near the bottom of its torso. There were three claws sticking out of its rear end, as well as another screw.

"What's with all the one-eyed creeps?" Mirage whispered. Atticus snorted.

"I heard that. Let's go!"

"No questions? No introduction?"

"None needed." He floated out of the cell, humming to himself.

"Three screws, and all of them are loose," Mirage snickered. "I'm going to call him Trike."

"It suits him. I don't trust him to recover any recombinants by himself.

"Neither do I. He'll have to stick with us."

Another guard showed up. Atticus, determined to prove to Mirage that he didn't need a babysitter, stepped between her and the soldier.

"Atticus, don't…"

"I can handle myself, Mirage."

"I have a visual on-"

"Shut up!" Atticus said. His hair began to rise from the static in his veins. "You're all the same!" He flicked his hand at the soldier, as if throwing a dagger, and a lightning bolt lept from him to the enemy, electrocuting the soldier to death.

"Ooh," Trike said. "Toasty."

"If you're so worried about reinforcements arriving, take Trike and go," Atticus ordered. Mirage frowned. It wasn't that she thought her companion couldn't take care of things by himself; she just didn't want to lose him.

But Atticus's eyes were rigid with determination, so reluctantly, she nodded and left. He sighed. The boy knew it was for the best, but he couldn't help but feel like he'd lost a piece of himself.

He moved down the empty steel halls. The ceiling lights flickered, but the lines of luminescence on the walls held steady. The whole situation was ominous. Why hadn't they sent all that many reinforcements? Perhaps it was a remote facility, and difficult for them to access. On the other hand, it could be located in a very public area; the scientists wouldn't be able to afford any unnecessary exposure, which would certainly happen if they sent in huge swarms of armed troops to a public facility.

The few guards that did show up weren't specialized at all, as if they didn't know which recombinants had escaped. How was that possible? His and Mirage's cells had both been equipped with security cameras. As smart as he was, Atticus couldn't arrive at any satisfactory conclusion, each answer only leading to more questions.

Cell Twenty-two. This would be the second to last recombinant Atticus himself liberated. He opened the door. Standing right in front of him was a curvaceous girl with wolfish features and large, downy ears. Like Mirage, this girl had a spike in the center of her chest, though hers was monochromatic and conical. She stood with a hand on her hip.

"Hey. You're cute!"

"Wha-" Atticus exclaimed, flushing. "Why are you standing right there?"

"Call it a hunch. And I'll call you a hunk," she winked.

Atticus was speechless. This was absolutely not what he had expected. "I don't even know how to respond to that."

The girl giggled, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him close. "Then don't," she whispered. "You can call me Nina."

A shiver went down his spine. "A-A-Atticus," he stuttered. "W-we really don't have time for this."

"Maybe later, then," she smirked, releasing him.

He briefly explained what was going on and what she should do. She stood uncomfortably close to him the entire time. Then she went off in a way that could only be described as part strut and part bounce. The fluffy tail set just above her firm buttocks swayed to and fro as she swaggered down the hall, leaving Atticus to grapple with unfamiliar emotions.

=·=·=·=·=

"Oh no."

"Is… is there a problem?"

"You could say that," Mirage sighed, running a hand through her hair. Floating in front of her was a creature made entirely of dessert. Part ice cream and part cotton candy, even she had the urge to sink her teeth into him.

"But you're not actually edible, right?" she asked hopefully.

"I… I am. E-edible, that is to s-say," the recombinant stuttered. He wouldn't look her in the eye. "That's w-why they made me."

"You poor thing. Don't worry. We're getting out of here." She gestured to the hall. As he left his room, she said to herself, "Just as long as Smorgas doesn't try to eat you himself."

=·=·=·=·=

She had him backed into a corner. Really, he should have seen her immediately, as she was a giant insect, but he'd been distracted by the yellow syrup dripping from the walls. Who could blame him? He didn't want to get slimed again.

This girl was vicious. Her torso was a beehive in and of itself, and she hovered above the ground on four dragonfly wings. Her hands - if you could even call them that - looked like they could snap a man in two, and it was with one of these that she reached for him.

Atticus closed his eyes, bracing himself for his inevitable demise. Instead, the girl began to gently caress his face with the blunt exterior of her claw. And just like that, it went from being incredibly scary to being incredibly uncomfortable.

"You look weak, but you have much power. It is alluring," she buzzed, nuzzling his face.

"Please get off of me," Atticus begged, leaning as far back as possible. He didn't think to question how she knew of his powers.

The girl complied with his request, more leisurely than he would have liked, and Atticus took a few moments to regain his composure. "I'm Atticus," he said.

"My lord," she bowed. There was that blush again. "I, Hecate, am at your… service." He didn't like the way she emphasized the word.

"Um. Hecate. Can I call you Kate?"

"You can call me whatever you'd like."

"Ri-ight." Why couldn't this cell have contained a nice, normal monster boy?

=·=·=·=·=

Finally, the recombinants met up at Glint's cell, thirteen of them in total. Atticus led the way. He didn't know where an actual exit was, but judging by all the steps he'd taken in his life, there was one hall in particular with no left-hand turns. Hopefully, beyond this wall was the mysterious outside world.

"Everyone. I know that we all just met, but I hope that you can learn to trust each other. I will lead you, no matter what happens. A lot has happened over the course of the last hour. Some of you may have taken the life of another sentient being for the first time. Do not regret it. They will not hesitate to do the same to you." He had their full attention. "Our whole lives, we've known only the confines of this place and the cruelties inflicted upon us. Now, I'm asking you to take a leap of faith. Beyond this wall is something, something both wonderful and terrifying. I don't know what to expect, and I need your help." Atticus clenched his fist. "We're going to blow a hole in this wall! Who's with me?"

The recombinants were silent. Atticus deflated. Then, Mirage stepped up to him and took his hand. "I am."

Arden pressed his palms together and bowed. "I would be honored to fight at your side."

"I'm down to get down with it," Glint said.

"Oy vey. Looks like we're mishpocheh now." That was Galatea, a recombinant with Miltank and Gogoat genes. One by one, the other recombinants voiced their approval, and a sense of community blossomed. Atticus's eyes were wet, for once not with sadness but with joy.

They backed away from the wall, Atticus and Glint standing side by side, apart from the rest. Glint would shoot a jet of high-pressure water at the wall, and Atticus would supercharge it with electricity.

"Don't leave me."

Atticus stood motionless. He had heard someone distinctly, as if there was a person standing right next to him, but it didn't sound like any of the recombinants he'd met.

"Cell Zero."

It might be a trap. But if it wasn't… Atticus knew what had to be done.

"You guys wait here! I've got something I need to do!" he yelled, taking off.

"Atticus!" Mirage screamed with desperation. "Stop playing hero!"

He returned briefly, taking Mirage by the hands. "I am so sorry, Mirage. I can't do that. All my life, I've been a selfish little brat. It's time for me to grow up and be a man."

She put a hand to her chest, breathless, as he ran away. The change that had come over him ever since killing the professor was remarkable. Was that her fault?

=·=·=·=·=

The final room was dimly lit. Lying in the middle of the floor were three seemingly inanimate objects. A sword, its sheath, and a shield. The only indication of life was a bright orange eye staring at him from the sword's hilt.

"You came," the sword said weakly.

"No easy feat, finding you. Why are you not sorted by the matrix?"

"Look around you. These walls… the glass… it all comes from me. I'm the most valuable recombinant. They hid me, because they can't afford to lose me."

"I thought vantaglass and moinvar were made from normal Pokémon."

"A half-truth fashioned by a master of propaganda. These special materials require metal from my blade in order to function at full strength. Without me, they would be more easily destroyed. They take their power from the shock of an ending, so to speak."

"So they carve off parts of your body to solidify their control," he said with disgust. "I imagine it's painful?"

"Yes. I am drained by it. I require your aid."

Atticus scooped up the items in his arms and sped towards his new family. "What's your name?"

"I am Ferrous, for that is what I am."

"Shaped like yourself, I see."

"My escape will be a severe blow to them. They will not rest until they find me."

Atticus sighed. "They'd kill to find any single one of us. All of us escaping together? It's going to shake the universe."

"Hey, boss!" Glint called out when he saw him. "We waited, just like you said! 'Course, Arden and Tiamat tried to bust out on their own."

"I did no such thing."

"Why are you dragging me into this?" Tiamat complained, a squid-like girl covered in slime. "We just met!" She slapped Glint with a gooey tendril, leaving behind a viscous lilac residue.

Atticus and Glint stood together, apart from the other recombinants. Glint shot his water and Atticus unleashed the lightning, but it had no effect on the metal barrier.

"Let me." Drasil, a jewel-encrusted tree, stepped forward. A recombination of Gigalith and Trevenant DNA, he was by far the largest member of the group, despite being younger than Atticus. He drew his fist back and drove it into the steel, which crumpled like wet tissue under the stone titan's mighty blow.

Suffuse brilliance spilled into the building, unlike any illumination they'd ever seen before. The smell, earthy and pure, blew in on a lazy breeze. Swathes of dark green stuff covered the floor outside. The recombinants lingered briefly. Despite how awful their existence had been, it was all they'd ever known. Then, for the first time in their lives, they stepped beyond the sterile halls. Atticus took the lead as they hustled away from the facility.

They were finally free. For now.


	5. Aggression

_Experiment: 19c6_

 _Codename: Arden_

 _Recombination: Blaziken/Cubone_

 _Status: Missing_

 _Date of Report: January 14th, 20XX_

 _Notes: All Delta experiments have escaped. Filibuster from the higher-ups prevented us from sending more troops. Heath is dead, and Cypress has requested vacation time, presumably to hold a funeral for his fiancé. Professor Agave will create a public relations campaign to villainize the escaped test subjects, turning the people of this region against them. Retrieving these recombinants is our top priority, dead or alive._

=·=·=·=·=

In hindsight, they probably should have brought some of the food from Smorgas's room.

They had been on the run for several weeks, and had only run into facility troops a few times, but after an incident with several mushrooms and plenty of vomit, the recombinants realized that they were terrible at foraging. Hunting was easier. There were plenty of small rodents, birds, and some larger grazing animals, but this diet didn't sit well with some of them. They were eating a lot of meat, honey, and dairy, and not much else.

It wasn't a comfortable situation, especially not for Galatea and Hecate who were providing their share of food to the dinner table, but everyone admitted that it was better than their previous circumstance. It couldn't last forever, though. Which brought them to today.

"Do you think they conduct experiments in those as well?" Drasil grunted.

"I told you once, I told you a million times," Glint said impatiently. "They're called houses. It's a town."

"I'll bet the experiments in there are very little," Tiamat said, holding the tips of two tentacles only an inch apart. "Like this big."

"Now you're just doing it to annoy me."

Atticus sighed as the three of them continued to bicker. Since leaving the facility, Glint and Tiamat had been teasing each other incessantly. Drasil joined in occasionally, but the two aquatic recombinants were the ones who had really bonded. So to speak. "Admit it," he muttered, "you two were made for each other."

Glint gasped with horror. "On a scale of one to even, I can't."

"I'm done," Tiamat said, slithering away. "Call me when you're ready to ink things up."

"I hope that wasn't a euphemism for something."

Atticus stood up and started walking back to their camp, gesturing for Glint and Drasil to follow. The others were gathered around a small fire pit, some talking amongst themselves. Mirage was staring forlornly at the ground, arms crossed over her legs.

"Alright, everybody. It's getting dark. We'll raid the place in the morning. I'll be taking Nina, Tiamat, and Arden. Try and get some rest." After he made his announcement, he walked over to where Mirage sat. "Hey," he said, plopping down beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders. "What's the matter?"

She looked at him without turning her head. "Do you like me?"

"What? Of course I do." He yawned.

She smiled softly, unfolding her arms and resting her head on his chest. "But you like Nina more."

"No, I don't. What's this all about?"

Mirage yawned, too. "You're so oblivious," she whispered, snuggling up to him.

"Oblivious? Oblivious to what? I think I'm doing fairly good as a leader." Atticus glanced at her. She'd fallen asleep.

"As always, your input is appreciated," he said, his own eyes growing heavy. "Good night, Mirage."

=·=·=·=·=

"We get in, we get the food, we get out. Try not to kill anyone." The four of them were atop the hill again, staking out the targeted houses. Humans bustled about, leaving their houses and going… wherever they were going. Some kind of work, Atticus presumed. They were waiting for everyone to be gone.

"I will use lethal force if necessary," Tiamat proclaimed.

"If necessary." Atticus wagged a finger at the squid girl. "Keep collateral damage to a minimum. But your life is more important than theirs."

Atticus jumped as someone put a hand on his shoulder. It was Mirage.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" he whispered, taking her aside.

"Can I come with you?"

Atticus wanted to say no, but she gazed at him with mournful eyes and he just couldn't force himself to do it. "Ah, okay." He hugged her. It was something he'd never done before, but it felt right. "Stick with me. I don't want you to get hurt."

"That's what I was going to do anyway." She smiled demurely at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Atticus saw Nina looking at them with a frown on her face. First Mirage's comment from the other day, and now this. What was going on with them?

Not in the mood for emotional warfare, Atticus waved his family members forward. The humans had cleared out. Each of the recombinants went for a different house. Atticus and Mirage stalked toward a spacious white house with a red roof and a garden around it. From the outside, it didn't look like much.

Mirage smashed through the window, and the two of them climbed in. The room had several soft, squishy cubes sitting around a elevated wooden rectangle. Sitting in the corner was a black and grey box with a pane of glass on the front.

"Over there." Atticus pointed to a door in the middle of the far wall. The two of them tiptoed over to the entrance. In the other room, a white-faced goblin was sweeping the floor, completely oblivious to their intrusion.

"What?" Mirage mouthed. Atticus shrugged. Neither of them had any idea what it was or what to do with it.

Then the goblin noticed them. It started panicking, putting its hands up in surrender.

"Well, that was easier than I expected," Atticus chuckled, walking over to the goblin. He smacked his face against an invisible wall and fell on his butt. The goblin was smiling apprehensively.

"Mister!" the creature said.

"I'm going to give you the shock of your life, you little creep!" Atticus barked, electricity crackling around his humiliated form. The goblin's smile disappeared.

"Atticus, don't kill him!" Mirage cried.

"Who cares," Atticus said coldly. "They're all irrelevant."

Mirage wrapped her arms around him. She was crying. "Stop it, Atticus. This isn't you. You're not a heartless monster. If you kill him, you're only becoming what Professor Asphodel and all the others want you to be." She looked at the goblin pleadingly. "Please. We just need food. Vegetables. Please."

The creature - it could only be a regular Pokémon - stared at them before nodding rapidly and walking past another elevated wood block to a large silver rectangular prism. It swung out the surface of the prism, which turned out to be a door, and gathered an armful of food. The goblin bagged the food and handed it to them with a smile. Atticus clasped the goblins hands in his own, ignoring the way it flinched.

"Thank you. I'm so sorry." Then, Atticus and Mirage ran. Behind them, the Pokémon waved them farewell. They didn't see it.

=·=·=·=·=

"Ooh. This is going to be problematic." Nina grimaced as the woman screamed.

"You can talk! What kind of monster are you?!"

"That hurts. Right here," she said, tapping her chest with a finger. "I'm not at all happy with this. See, I'm supposed to kill anyone who, you know… gets in the way. And I'm not as good at killing people as my friends. Can't shoot plasma or cut people in half. Hey, how are you at keeping secrets?"

"I'm calling the police!"

The recombinant girl sighed. "Fired before you even got the job. That's rough. Not as rough as this will be. You know, I reeally wish you hadn't said that." Nina cracked her knuckles. "Show time. Maybe now he'll finally notice me!" she giggled as she leaped across the room in a single bound, delivering a flying kick to the human before she could dial the phone number. Nina landed on her feet. The woman did not.

"I'm waaay behind schedule," she muttered, slugging the human repeatedly. "Fashionably late, I guess. Ma'am, I'm afraid that will bruise in the morning. When… you… don't wake up. Ah, what the heck. Blunt force trauma causes memory damage, doesn't it? I don't have time for this anyway. Maybe he brought me because I'm agile. Was this supposed to be a stealth mission? Whatevs." She stood up, wiping the blood off her hands and into her fur. "Hope he likes my new perfume. I call it, eau de humanity."

Nina started gathering food from the fridge when two items caught her eye. One was a bag of bright orange cylinders. The other was a nice, juicy steak. Her mouth started watering.

"Hmm. I'll take a snack for the road." She tore open the bag. The label said 'carrots'. Nina bit a carrot in half and started chewing as she loaded her arms with food.

"The carnivore part of me wants that meat, but the herbivore in me has been eating meat for the past month. Guess which side wins? Man, this is good." She grinned. "Not as good as that boy, I'd imagine. Yowza. I am on fire today!"

=·=·=·=·=

Tiamat was also encountering problems. She'd discovered spray paint, and was busy decorating the house.

"Grey halls and green hills. I imagine the ocean would be like the hills, not the halls. Maybe. Is it like the halls?" She shrugged with four of her tentacles. "I'll do both. Creative artistic license, geography."

With her many limbs, she made short work of the place. Compared to a normal graffiti artist. She'd still wasted plenty of time. "Uh oh. This prodigy should get moving. I wonder if they'll trace this to me. Better sign off with a pseudonym. Something inconspicuous. Like Butterfingers. I don't have fingers. Yeah, let's go with that."

She gazed around at her masterpiece with pride. "I was supposed to be doing something. Food! That's it."

The food was inside a big rock. Well, she'd painted it to look like a rock. Tiamat opened the door and was horrified by what she saw.

"This is just monstrous! They eat squid? Oh, look, oysters! Lovely. I should get out of here before they make me their next meal. No, no. Just take everything that's not seafood. Sorry, guys, you're already dead. I am not absconding with you."

The front door creaked open. Tiamat trembled as she climbed up onto the ceiling, sticking to it with her viscous coating. An older man limped in, walking with a cane. He didn't appear to notice the graffiti yet. Tiamat breathed a sigh of relief and slithered out while the man was still holding the door open. She waited until it closed after him before dropping to the ground and moving back toward their meeting place.

=·=·=·=·=

Atticus, Mirage, and Arden were already waiting with their arms and bags full of consumables. Nina arrived just after Tiamat.

"What took you so long? I was worried." Atticus scratched Nina's head, much to Mirage's chagrin. Nina sighed with pleasure, her little tail twitching. When he turned away, Mirage held two fingers to her throat and made a cutting motion. Nina gulped.

"Come on. Let's go back to the others."

The five of them started walking through the grass. As they got farther from the village, the grass grew in length, until it went up to their knees. It would stay that length until they were within a few dozen feet of their makeshift camp.

Arden took Atticus by the arm and steered him away from the others. "Permit me to make an observation?"

"Of course, Arden. We're brothers."

"Sir, I respect you as a leader, and I view you as such. We are brothers only in arms."

Atticus sighed. "Of course, Arden. I hope to earn more than just your respect in the days to come. What were you going to tell me?"

"If you keep teasing the girls, your relationship with them will become more complicated."

Atticus shook his head and laughed a little. "I don't know what you mean."

"Well, as you know. Mirage, Nina, Hecate… we, the recombinants of Delta block, are all around the same age as you. We have all been through puberty already, and our hormonal levels are settling into what they will be as adults. Hearts will get broken."

He shook his head again. "I don't understand."

Arden rolled his eyes and gave up. "No one does, Atticus. Never mind I said anything. I'm sure it will all work out."

The grass in front of them started rustling. A frog-like creature with flower bulb on its back popped its head out and looked at them curiously. "Saur?"

"Hmm. I don't think that's an animal."

Nina's mouth was watering again. "It looks yummy. I say we capture it and take it back to camp."

"As good a plan as any. We'll need to subdue it, though. Someone, take some of Tiamat's food so she can slime the creature."

Mirage, being stronger than Atticus, took the bags of food he was holding. He, in turn, took an armful of food from Tiamat who was smirking devilishly. Well, as much as a creature with a beak can smirk. As it turned out, the plant creature had tentacles too, but Tiamat was faster than it, her limbs weaving between its own and wrapping it up, covering it with goo in the process. It wiggled and squirmed, crying out "Bulba! Bulba!" as it tried in vain to break free of her vise-like grip.

"Be quiet, Dinner." Everyone stared at Tiamat. "What? It needs a name."

"Ay caramba," Nina muttered.

They arrived back at camp. Everyone was waiting.

"Was the mission successful?" Ferrus asked. His yellow eye stared at them with interest. Had it always been that color? Atticus would talk to him about it later.

"See for yourself." The five of them laid their bounty out in front of the rest. Smorgas stepped toward the food, then visibly stopped himself. Since they had escaped, he was looking visibly thinner, though not by much. Him and Sweet had become friends, and it was clear that Smorgas was in part motivated by that friendship to control his hunger.

Atticus and Mirage divided up the food while the other recombinants cobbled together bags to carry it all with out of foliage and animal skins. "Everyone carries their own food," Atticus said authoritatively. "Except for those of you without arms. Tiamat, would you be willing to help carry Glint's food?"

"Of course, Atticus." Glint nudged her, and she slapped him again. "I'm doing it for him, not for you."

"Drasil and Hecate, you are the strongest of us. Will you be willing to lend your strength?"

"Yes," Drasil grunted.

"Of course, my lord," Hecate whispered, pinching Atticus with her claw from behind.

He jumped. "Right," Atticus muttered, backing off nervously. He was starting to see what Arden had been talking about.

They set off, Tiamat dragging the captured Pokémon behind her and all of them carrying bags of food. Except for Glint, Trike, and Ferrus, of course. They didn't know where they were going, except that it was farther away from the facility.

"We should get some more clothes," Mirage sighed. "I've been wearing the same old shirt for what feels like forever."

"Everyone's starting to smell the same."

"Not me!" Nina exclaimed cheerfully, sidling up to Atticus. "I've got a new smell."

Atticus pulled her closer to get a good sniff. "Yeah, I can tell. Not animal blood."

"Do you… like it?" She looked at him with a wide eyed smile, and Mirage started growling.

"Hmm. I think I do."

Nina chuckled and moved away, glancing coyly at Mirage who had stomped ahead of them with a scowl. Atticus's face reddened as he once again thought back to his conversation with Arden, and he hurried to catch up to her.

"You're mad again."

"I'm not mad," she scoffed. "Who's mad?"

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

She sighed. "Of course. Thank you, Atticus." Somehow, the name seemed more formal when she said it now than it had before. "I think I'll go talk to Arden."

Atticus scratched his nose as she left and Glint rolled up to beside him. "Hey, Glint. What's up?"

"I was just thinking… if we're a family… we should have a surname."

"A what?"

"Like Erasmus Nightshade. His first name is Erasmus, but his surname - his family name - is Nightshade."

Atticus nodded and thought about it for a bit. "Delta. We're the Deltas, after all."

"Meaningful. Catchy. Delta it is. Yo!" Glint went off to tell the surrogate family their new name. After a bit of explanation, the recombinants all agreed that it would be a great surname. So Atticus became Atticus Delta.

When they made camp later that night, Atticus held a meeting and the Delta family made a decision. The recombinants would get new clothes at the next town they came across. They'd need good disguises. By now, the humans would be on high alert for freaks like them. It would be easiest for Atticus to blend. Smorgas could go as a fat kid if he kept his tongue in, and Mirage could possibly pass for human, but everyone else was out of the question.

Mirage avoided him for the rest of the day, which was just as well. He was sitting by the campfire when someone wrapped their arms around his neck and started rubbing themselves against him. Nina.

"Hiya, cutie," she whispered.

"Hello, Nina," he sighed.

She stopped nuzzling him. "Is something wrong?"

Atticus tossed a handful of sticks into the fire. "I guess. I don't know. All the girls are acting strangely."

Nina maneuvered her way into his lap and stared into his eyes. Atticus felt all the blood in his entire body rush to his face. "I'm not one of those girls, am I?" she asked.

"Yes, you are! You're doing it right now!"

She laughed. "Well, you're an attractive guy. I can see why they might be coming onto you."

"I don't understand half of what you just said," he replied, aghast. "But I don't like the way it sounded."

Nina sighed. "Here, let me just show you." She wrapped her arms around his neck again and pressed her lips to his cheek. Atticus's mind went blank.

"I… you just… what?" His face was bright red. "What was… where did you learn that?" Atticus stuttered.

"Um." She glanced away, frowning. This was the first time he'd seen her look genuinely unhappy. "Let's just say that my guards… did not always treat me well. Started when I first became a teenager. I still have nightmares, sometimes."

Atticus's frowned. "Oh, man, I'm so sorry." Then he grinned at her. "Hey, everything's going to be okay. This is nice, actually."

Nina yawned and pulled him closer. "I don't want to have nightmares tonight," she muttered.

Atticus looked over to where Mirage and Arden were themselves getting close. "I don't think Mirage will be needing me." He laid back with her. "You'll be safe with me."

"Thanks," she whispered.

"You do smell nice."

Nina giggled sleepily. "You're a nice guy, Atticus. I think that's the real reason…" She drifted off, and soon enough, both of them were asleep, arms still wrapped around each other.

=·=·=·=·=

The next day, they set off again. Nina stayed close to Atticus, and for once, he didn't mind. Mirage walked next to Arden, but Atticus saw out of the corner of his eye that she gave them a scowl at them every so often.

"We've been travelling for an awfully long time without any interference," Valentine remarked, hands tucked in her pouch. "I think we're actually safe!" A bipedal girl with pink-and-cream skin, big blue eyes, and a short tail, she was the most naïve out of the group. Unlike the others, she had not been abused growing up, being created as a healer. In fact, it was her pampered lifestyle that had been the motivation for her joining them; she wanted to see the world and be able to survive without people constantly addressing her every need. The girl's floppy ears constantly twitched.

"Oh, no, you didn't. You did not just say that," Glint said. "Rule one of escape club: you do not talk about escape club!"

"But it's true."

There was a loud cracking noise coming from behind them. The group turned to see an uprooted tree flying through the air toward them. Glint sighed. "You had to say it. Never tell me the odds, Valentine."

The recombinants scattered like birds as the tree ploughed into the ground where they'd been standing, leaving behind a massive furrow as it skidded to a stop. They panicked, running about without order, only a goal - to get away.

"No! We need to stay together!" Atticus shouted, planting his feet. "We are the Deltas!"

They froze and turned to him. One by one, they all started back together. But in the chaos, they hadn't heard the second crack. Another tree slammed into Atticus from behind, taking him with it as the massive projectile crashed into another tree. Mirage screamed his name. Someone, not one of them, started laughing.

"They told me you would be a challenge! That was just pathetic. That was your leader? How utterly disappointing." A four armed, musclebound freak with a bright red nose swaggered toward them. The recombinant - he could only be a recombinant - had grey skin and thick magenta tendons around its chest, and wore briefs and a golden belt. "He couldn't have possibly survived that."

"Who are you?" Nina yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The man grabbed another tree, ripping it out of the ground. "You don't need to know, but I'll tell you. I am Strongarm! Professor Asphodel's favorite!" He grinned malevolently. "And you are dead."

He threw the tree right at Mirage. There was no time for her to get out of the way, but instead of crushing Mirage to death, the tree stopped before it could even touch her. Atticus had appeared out of nowhere and had was holding the projectile above his head like it didn't weigh anything. His violet eyes were glowing, and he wore a fierce grin.

"Strongarm? That's a really stupid name," the blond haired boy laughed. Flakes of wood drifted around him. "I think I'll call you Chuckles instead. Because you're a big, dumb clown."

Strongarm's jaw dropped. "How are you alive? Ah, it doesn't matter. I won't make the same mistake twice."

Atticus's smile faded. "You're right. You won't." He tossed the tree aside. "You won't live to make the same mistake twice. You made her cry," he said with cold rage. "I'm going to kill you now."

"You? Kill me?" the grey skinned recombinant laughed. "Un-" And suddenly, Atticus was right in front of him. "-likely?"

Atticus snapped his fist into Strongarm's smug smile, sending him staggering back. Strongarm snarled and grabbed at him, but Atticus ducked beneath his arms and was gone, stepping behind the ogre and sending a blast of energy into his spine.

"Rargh! I'm going to destroy you!" Strongarm grunted. He slammed his fists into the ground and the earth quaked, knocking Atticus off of his feet. Atticus tried to get up, but Strongarm pinned him down with two of his arms and began strangling him as he lifted the boy above his head. "Before I kill you, I want to know how you survived blunt force trauma… from a tree! You did not dodge that! I saw you get hit!"

Despite the blood now dripping from his mouth, Atticus smirked. "A magician does not normally reveal his secrets. But I'll make a special exception for you and drop a hint. You see, the key to every act… is misdirection."

Strongarm squinted at him. Then his eyes widened. He whirled around, but it was too late. Atticus had already given the other recombinants enough time to regroup. As Strongarm spun, Nina jumped into the air and kicked him in the face. The man dropped Atticus and stumbled straight into Drasil, who grabbed him by the head and lifted him above his head.

"Please, spare me! I promise I won't tell the professors where you are!"

Drasil stared at him impassively. "Of course you won't. Corpses don't speak." The stone recombinant proceeded to crush Strongarm's skull, which popped like a grape, and dropped the man to the ground.

"You didn't have to kill him!" Mirage cried.

Atticus took her face in his hands. "Hey, Mirage. Look at me," he said soothingly. "You're right. We didn't have to. But if Drasil hadn't killed him, it would have come back to haunt us. He would have told the professors, no matter what promises he made. You know that." He hugged her. "Sometimes, we must make the hardest decision for the good of all, even if it hurts."

Trike floated over to them. "Is he gone?"

"You could say that."

"We need to find a place to hunker down," Drasil muttered. "With Strongarm here, more enemies won't be far behind."

Atticus stretched out his back and sighed. "Where? We're in the open, and we don't know of a more strategic area to position ourselves."

"Would caves work?" Trike piped up.

The others looked at him quizzically. Atticus stroked his chin. "Yes… I suppose so. But where are we going to find caves?"

Trike started humming happily, doing a midair figure eight. "I know." He started floating away. "Come on!"

Atticus and the others took off after him. "Wait! How?" Nina asked.

"I can sense a large lodestone deposit deep within the earth." Not waiting for a response, Trike flew off at a brisk pace, leaving the other recombinants to play catch-up. Atticus, Mirage, and Nina ran together.

"That's the most lucid thing he's said since we met him," Mirage said. "But are you sure we should be following him?"

"It's not like we have many options," Atticus replied. "I just hope there's another town on the way."

=·=·=·=·=

 _Experiment: 19c6_

 _Codename: Arden_

 _Recombination: Combusken/Cubone_

 _Status: Active_

 _Date of Report: August 7th, 20XX_

 _Notes: It is as of yet unknown why recombinants don't evolve at a 1:1 ratio. 19c6's Torchic aspect evolved, but his Cubone aspect did not. Many recombinants evolve in this way, with one gene set progressing at a faster pace than the other. Some progress equally. There does not seem to be any pattern to it._


	6. This Fragile Skin

_Experiment: 18c4_

 _Codename: Strongarm_

 _Recombination: Machamp/Conkeldurr_

 _Status: Failed_

 _Date of Report: February 25th, 20XX_

 _Notes: 18c4's corpse was recovered from [REDACTED] Forest. Cause of death was omnidirectional blunt force trauma to the skull. Subject also suffered acute muscular paralysis, possibly a byproduct of 17c3's abilities. Recommend greater use of force in future attempts to retrieve Delta experiments._

=·=·=·=·=

Atticus had, in fact, been hit by the tree. Briefly. It had broken three of his ribs, so he was confident that it had happened. He was less confident about what had happened next. He hadn't told any of the other recombinants about it, because it was just too bizarre. One moment, he'd had a tree slamming into his back. Next thing he knew, he was standing in the furrow as the tree rolled away.

That was why he'd been spitting blood for the second time in as many months. He was very fortunate to have survived, but it was a Pyrrhic victory. He'd kept it to himself, not asking for a healing out of fear of being questioned. Most of the others were none the wiser. Most of them.

On their way to the caves, Atticus had stumbled to his knees. Not knowing about his ribs, Mirage and the rest had followed his orders when he told them to go on without him. Hecate had been the one to scoop him up in her arms, carrying him despite his protests.

"They see you as the invincible leader, but I know better," she buzzed. "You're hurt."

"I am not," he said weakly.

"Hmm. You put on a show of bravery, so that they won't be scared. But you're just as scared as anyone." She nuzzled him. "It's okay to be afraid, as long as we don't let our fears define us. If you knew no fear, I'd think there was something wrong with you." She leaned in, pressing her face against his and nipping his ear with her mandibles. "Besides," Hecate whispered as he blushed furiously, "beneath your fear is that sweet, sweet power."

Atticus struggled to breathe, partly because of his ribs and partly because of how flustered she made him. He squirmed beneath her touch.

"Please don't," the boy gasped.

She cocked her head, and despite not having lips, Atticus could have sworn she was frowning. "Why do you not like me?" she said sadly. "You freely associate with the other girls. Why am I not eligible?"

"Part of it is because you make everything sound weird!" Atticus groaned. "I could learn to like you, but give me some time. It's hard enough to figure out my own feelings without everyone acting crazy." He grinned weakly.

Hecate's buzzing grew much louder as she hugged him tightly.

"Ack! Hecate, stop! My ribs!"

=·=·=·=·=

It turned out that Trike had been correct about the cave. If anything, the tiny recombinant had made an underestimation, for there were several caves dotting the mountainside, perfect for hiding out. They picked a fairly large one halfway up the mountain. It would take some climbing, but they'd have ample warning when the soldiers arrived.

The cave they'd picked had been filled with curly-haired pink things, which the Deltas had needed to get rid of. Aggressive creatures that refused the be chased off, Atticus and the others were left with no choice but to exterminate them. Unfortunately, they were disgustingly inedible; a complete waste of space.

Atticus had finally worked up the courage to admit his weakness, though he'd needed Hecate to figuratively hold his hand along the way. Mirage had healed him, and she sat with him as he took a much needed break. The other recombinants had gone to look for dinner.

Speaking of which, the little frog thing had escaped from Tiamat's clutches in the fight with Strongarm, but had started following them of its own volition. Evidently, it had become addicted to eating her slime. It sat with the two teenage recombinants in the cave, snoring quietly.

"There's another town," Mirage said. "You were asleep when we found it."

"Good. I'll take some of the others once I'm feeling better," he muttered, staring at the ceiling of the cavern. The stone surface was dotted with stalactites.

She took his hand, running her thumb across his palm. "I don't really feel like going this time. Last time wasn't very pleasant, and I don't want my feelings for you to be tarnished any more."

Atticus sighed. "I've been kind of ignoble, haven't I."

"Yes. You've become violent. What happened to the gentle boy I knew?"

"He lost his naïvety when they tried to rescind the gift they'd given him, and he now sees the world through jaded eyes."

"Understandable. I'm glad to see you're still poetic." She smiled wistfully. "So. You're in a relationship with Nina now."

"I wouldn't call it that," he chuckled. "We're just good friends."

"You kissed."

"She kissed me. It was not reciprocal."

"You didn't exactly complain about it."

Atticus shrugged, yawning as he pulled an animal fur over himself. It was Sweet who had first had the revolutionary idea of using fur to cover them while they slept. Rather ironic, since Sweet slept hovering in midair and had no need for a blanket.

"I'm happy for you, Atticus," Mirage said as he drifted off. "She's a good girl. Bit odd, but we all are." She gazed reminiscently at the sleeping boy, not sure if she liked who he was becoming.

=·=·=·=·=

The Deltas were sitting down to eat another meal of meat. They had decided to take turns drinking the nectar from Dinner's bulb, and it was Mirage's turn. She squatted on the floor and pinned the frog-like creature to the ground, ignoring its protests as she sucked the sugary fluid out of its body. Atticus and Nina sat together, but when the world-class ditz known as Trike finally showed up, Atticus stood to address the group.

"Tomorrow, we'll be heading off to the town that Mirage found to get new clothes. I'll be taking Tiamat, Arden, Sweet, and Valentine."

Nina looked at him with wide eyes. "I want to come with you!"

"Nope. I want you and Mirage and Hecate to work out your differences while we're gone."

"Why me and Sweet?" Valentine asked.

"You two need field experience. Tiamat is coming because she's nimble and has multiple arms to carry things with, and Arden is coming because he's the most mature and trustworthy. Sorry, Tia."

She waved a tentacle dismissively. "Nah, it's cool. I love to help. You, at any rate." Atticus rolled his eyes as he sat back down, tearing into a leg of charred meat from some unknown animal. He didn't know the names of any of the wildlife, and didn't really want to find out. It would only make him feel bad about eating them, and he didn't need more things to weigh down his conscience. Atticus made a remark about this to Nina.

"Hello, Bob. Nice to eat you," she laughed.

"We had their family over for dinner!" Atticus laughed. His smile faded as he remembered the things Mirage had said to him. Suddenly, he felt gauche and insecure. He wanted to do something to make things up to her. But what?

=·=·=·=·=

There were wanted posters all over the town, describing the men the recombinants had killed and offering a reward for their capture. Luckily, the posters didn't have very realistic pictures, being only composite sketches, and the sheets of paper merely referred to them by their serial numbers. As long as Atticus and the others were careful, they'd be fine.

A cool breeze blew through the town. The five of them kept to the spaces between buildings, where they wouldn't be noticed. A few people saw them and gave them odd looks, but no one apprehended them. The most prominent building of the town was a large, pink roofed museum. Many of the facilities looked relatively new.

"W-w-w-where are we g-going to find c-c-clothes?" Sweet asked.

"I'm sure they have stores where the humans purchase their clothing," Valentine said pleasantly, head tilted to the sky as she basked in the sun. "We just need to find one and… you know." They'd all agreed to not say the word STEAL out loud. Better that the humans didn't know their intentions pre ex facto.

"Let's just ask someone," Arden muttered, leaning on his bone.

"Let's not, okay?" Atticus hissed. "That's a terrible idea!"

"We're already wanted for crimes much worse," Arden said, so quietly that only the five of them could hear. "We ask, we grab, we run. They won't know what hit them."

Petulantly, Atticus agreed. They approached an older man with dark skin and asked him where they could obtain clothing, explaining that they were new to town. The man gave them a closed-eyed smile.

"Those are some neat costumes your Pokémon are wearing. Name's Flint." He held a hand out in front of him. Atticus stared at it, not understanding the gesture. The man cleared his throat awkwardly and withdrew the hand. "Nice to meet you, mister…"

"Atticus. Atticus Delta."

"Nice to meet you, Atticus. Well, there are a few clothes shops here." The man pointed to the southern part of the town. "Hard to miss them. You want me to show you the way?"

Atticus shook his head vehemently. The other recombinants shifted uncomfortably.

"Alright then. Good luck!" Flint called as they walked away.

"We'll need it," Tiamat said when they were out of earshot. Atticus and Valentine nodded in agreement. They didn't move through the alleys this time, but they did keep to the shadows as they approached the area Flint had pointed out. Atticus was somewhat apprehensive, but it wasn't a trap. There was indeed a clothing store.

The Deltas went through the store, gathering clothing that looked like it might fit with little regard for appearance. Atticus was moving through the women's section when something caught his eye. It was a carbon grey shirt-like garment with a hood and was made out of a thick, warm material. The garment had two pockets and a zipper on the front. Experimentally, he stretched out the fabric. It was fairly elastic.

"This is nice…"

One of the store attendants overheard him. "You like that hoodie? Smart choice. There's a cold front blowing in. Going to be a bit chilly."

Atticus nodded. It was the perfect gift for Mirage. He scooped the hoodie up in his arms, adding it to the already present pile. When he couldn't reasonably carry anything else, he met up with the other Deltas in the center of the store.

"Arden?" he said in a hushed tone.

"The closest employees are approximately fifteen feet away from us. The older workers have a specific route they take. Younger workers wander semi-randomly. Be ready to run in ten seconds."

The five of them waited until the nearby store attendants drifted away before bolting toward the exit. An alarm went off as they crossed the threshold. Several muscular security guards started toward them, but they weren't used to having anyone actually try to steal clothing, and the recombinants had speed honed through years of endurance training and brutal experimentation that the humans lacked.

"Someone stop them!" a blue-haired woman in officer's clothes called out.

Sweet was laughing, the adrenaline apparently going straight to his creamy head, and Valentine wore a huge, devilish grin on her normally angelic face. Atticus grinned as well. This was the most fun he'd had for a while.

Then, as they were entering the woods with their pursuers far behind them, something came to Atticus's mind. Flint hadn't reacted with fear or disgust upon meeting them. Before meeting him, Atticus had thought that all humans were the same. Was it all an act? And if it was, who was acting? Flint, or the professors?

=·=·=·=·=

 _Experiment: 34v0_

 _Codename: None_

 _Recombination: Mew/Deoxys_

 _Status: Failed_

 _Date of Report: January 12th, 20XX_

 _Notes: Part of the discontinued Vertigo project. Slated to be destroyed on the 22nd. Vertigo yielded only one success, but it led to the discovery that human DNA is required to create stable recombinations. For reasons still unknown, this induces a higher level of sentience than is found in ordinary Pokémon. The Attic Hypothesis states that Pokémon naturally have the ability to speak and reason, but that ability is suppressed - our genetic material simply brings it to the surface._


	7. Interstitials

_Experiment: 17c3_

 _Codename: Atticus_

 _Recombination: Mew/Human_

 _Status: Missing_

 _Date of Report: February 27th, 20XX_

 _Notes: We have received clearance to mobilize a strike force with the intent of reclaiming the escaped experiments. In addition, Professor Agave has taken it upon himself to hire a professional bounty hunter using his personal funds. 17c3 is not the strongest recombinant, but has the potential to be the ultimate weapon - many magnitudes more powerful than Mewtwo._

=·=·=·=·=

Jarom Cypress had fallen back into old habits since Guy's death. He'd started visiting the pub again, and playing Ransei roulette at night. In fact, it was because of his excessive alcoholism that the two had met. Jarom had been hopelessly drunk at the time; severely depressed and constantly berated by his superiors, he'd been trying and failing to keep his problems out of his mind with time spent at the pub. On that night they'd kicked him out, and he'd wandered the streets in a stupor before falling unconscious at the local park.

Heath had found him and, not knowing where he lived or who he was, had brought Jarom to his apartment and nursed him back to health. They'd become friends, and at first that was all they were. Just friends. But as time went on, Jarom found that spending time with Guy took his mind off the sorrows… and Guy got a job at the facility to spend more time with him… One thing had led to another, and they had gotten engaged. Really, Jarom owed him not just his life, but his happiness. And now it was his fault that Guy was dead. To think that the last thing Heath had heard from him was criticism…

Most days, Jarom was less than sober. Today was different. Today, he'd freshened up. Today, he wasn't drunk. Today was Guy's funeral.

Erasmus was the only other professor present. Ajax had also come, though he was just the intern. It was a touching gesture. The Cypress and Heath families were also present. They'd always been supportive of Jarom and Guy's relationship, as unusual as it was.

Jarom was ostensibly a member of the Church of Palkia, while Guy had been Giratina Orthodox. He hadn't been able to find a priest from either on such short notice, but an Regigigaian pastor had been willing to step up.

"We are gathered here today to pay our tribute and our respect to a man of Giratina, our brother, Guy Heath. Not only have people from his family and the family of his betrothed gathered, but scientists… scientists who have respected him as a scientist and have loved him as a friend. We are here to show our support for Guy's loved ones. We all lost something of ourselves when we lost him."

Jarom's eyes filled with tears. It was true. He really had lost a part of himself.

"Our hearts will be with them. Finally, we are here today to seek and to receive comfort. We are humble, and just as Regigigas brought together the continents, so, too, shall he bring together our lives in the wake of this tragedy. Lord of the Earth, accept this man into your care. We commit his body to the ground. Continent to continent, shore to shore, dust to dust; in the certain hope that he may one day be reborn as fertile growth."

The pastor's words sparked something in Cypress, and the inventive part of his mind began churning away. He thought of one of the few Pokémon he owned, Spiritomb, and how it was supposedly the souls of over a hundred people bound to a rock. His conscious filled with something other than sadness.

Hope.

And hatred.

=·=·=·=·=

"Wanted for questioning is a teenager named Atticus, responsible for the deaths of over a dozen civilians working at the Institute for…"

Malcolm Dogbane turned off the television with a sigh. He'd been considering handing in his two-weeks notice. Things had really gone downhill lately, and with a certain person getting a promotion soon, working there didn't seem safe anymore.

Besides which, he felt personally responsible for the escaped recombinants. If not for his little act of pity, Atticus and Mirage would have never met. Those dangerous animals were on the loose in his world, and…

No. They weren't animals. His gaze drifted to the picture framed on his mantle. His wife had died in childbirth. Their son hadn't survived, either. In a way, Atticus had shown him what it was like to have a son. He'd done a terrible job of it, no matter how one looked at it. From a professional standpoint, he'd been far too kind. From a fatherly perspective, he'd been abusive and horrible. There was no excuse for his actions.

He had two debts to repay. He owed it to the men and women he worked for to remedy his mistake, and he owed it to the memory of his wife - to Atticus - to give the escaped recombinants a better life.

That's why he'd been actively sabotaging the other professor's attempts to reclaim Atticus and the others; destroying documents, erasing security footage, convincing board members to wait. But he couldn't keep it up forever. He'd have to starting following orders soon. How could he satisfy both his ethical and moral duties?

Malcolm rose from his soft brown sofa and went to the kitchen, setting a kettle of Kanto-grown tea leaves on the stove top to boil. The bread was almost done cooking, too. Hopefully, a minty drink and a slice of buttered toast would clear his mind. He hadn't gotten as much sleep the last few days as he would have liked.

It was a dilemma, and Dogbane hated dilemmas.

=·=·=·=·=

"Oh, thank you so much, Asphodel." The elderly fellow shook his hand vigorously. "I can't tell you how much this means to me, personally. I've flat out told you that I'll be voting against, and yet you're still so helpful! Without you, I don't know where the Board of Directors would be."

Hades Asphodel gave the man a toothy smile. He'd assured the man that he'd personally see to it 17c3 was reclaimed. There was malice in that smile, but the Director didn't seem to pick up on it. "Of course, Mister Wagner."

The two men were in Wagner's office. Hades was better groomed than usual, without grime on his glasses and wearing a crisp suit. They were talking about the escaped recombinants, and Asphodel's upcoming promotion, among other things. Chatting like old friends, except they were most certainly not friends. Wagner was a conceited buffoon, obsessed with the rules. A man in a position of power who refused to do anything productive with it.

"Please, call me Nemo. About that haircut…?"

Asphodel's smile twitched. When he'd been getting his masters in biology and particle physics, he'd worked part-time at a barbershop to pay off what was every student's nemesis: everpresent debt. The people he worked with, who foolishly thought of him as their friend, often would ask for him to relive the past. He wasn't a scientist, he was a glorified manservant. To them, at least.

"Hmm. Of course, Nemo. Take a seat." He'd planned for this, actually; had even brought a cart with haircutting equipment. It was still demeaning. Wagner plopped into his decadent industrial throne and leaned back as Asphodel put on rubber gloves. He began spraying the man's long grey locks with water.

"It's an interesting name you have. Do you know what it means?" Asphodel asked casually, reaching not for the scissors but for a shaving blade.

The corpulent man chuckled. "An old word meaning 'nobody'."

"Exactly," Hades grinned, grabbing a fistful of the man's hair. "Nobody of consequence." Two flicks of the wrist later the Director's throat was open, and Asphodel's blade glistened red in the evening light. Wagner slumped forward, gurgling helplessly as the blood flowed.

Asphodel left the building and slipped out of his dress shoes, which he'd bought through proxy so as to be untraceable. Just in case, he tossed them and the gloves in a trash can and poured the fluid from the bottle in as well, which was not water but in fact gasoline. Lighting the trash on fire with a match, he lit a cigar with the same flame and headed home, puffing away with a sinister smile.

Phase one of his plan was complete. Now for phase two.

=·=·=·=·=

 _Experiment: 11c20_

 _Codename: Lancenaught_

 _Recombination: Bisharp/Excadrill_

 _Status: Success_

 _Date of Report: June 4th, 20XX_

 _Notes: Powerful and utterly obedient to their masters, Lancenaughts are among the most successful of the experiments. Over time they gradually lost their individuality, due to the sheer number of Lancenaughts produced after the initial success. What they lack in power, they make up for in numbers and loyalty. 11c20 are to be used in concert with light infantry._


	8. The Energy (Redux)

_Experiment: 1v8_

 _Codename: Enya_

 _Recombination: Human/Entei_

 _Status: Success_

 _Date of Report: July 25th, 20XX_

 _Notes: The only successful recombination from Project Vertigo. To be used as a last resort only. Do not allow 1v8 out of her confines under any other circumstances. Breach of conduct is liable to result in planet-wide catastrophe._

=·=·=·=·=

The group Atticus had taken to the city hid in the woods on their way back. Human officers followed them a fair distance past the city limits, and they didn't want to lead them straight to their new home. Finally, the humans had given up trying to apprehend them, and Atticus's group had continued to the caves.

Atticus returned to find Mirage grappling with Trike. She was pushing Trike's body away with her legs while her hands pulled at one of the two metallic, orb-shaped Pokemon that had gotten stuck to him. Her efforts to separate the three were as of yet fruitless.

"I made some friends."

"You have got to be kidding me," Atticus muttered.

Mirage glanced at him and rolled her eyes, grunting as she strained to sever the seemingly indestructible connection.

"How did this happen?"

"I found themm-" Trike cut off, his eye spazzing out as Mirage finally managed to get an inch of space between him and the orb. It didn't last long, and moments later, they snapped back together with a clang.

"Augh! That was terrible! Leave us alone."

"Magnemite," the orb Mirage was holding buzzed, seemingly in agreement as it waved its two U-shaped appendages around. The other orb was quiet and still; the only sign that it was even alive was the way it glanced around the room forlornly.

Atticus sighed. "It's alright, Mirage. You can let him… them… go. I'm not sure you can separate them, and I'm not sure if we want to. Doesn't seem to be hurting Trike, so." He shrugged. She released the trio and sat with her hands on her lap, panting heavily. Atticus held out a hand, and Mirage took it with a smile, letting him pull her to her feet.

"Thanks, Atticus." She said it rather formally, which reminded him.

"Close your eyes," he said with a grin.

"Why?"

"Just do it, okay?"

Mirage shut her eyes with a tolerant smile. As soon as she did, Atticus rushed over to the pile of new clothes and dug out the present, which he'd buried under the rest so as to hide it. "No peeking!" he said happily. He moved behind her.

"Hold out your arms."

He unzipped the garment and slid it over her, flipping the hood up onto Mirage's head and wrapping his arms around her waist. Her eyes opened slowly, and she looked down at the charcoal clothes with bemusement. Mirage's face turned pink.

"You got this for me?" she said breathlessly.

"Yeah." He beamed, taking a step back as she turned to face him. "What do you think?"

"I… I don't know what to say." She swallowed. "Atticus… I think I need some time to process this."

Atticus's smile disappeared. "Right. Of course." He started backing off, head held low. He didn't want her to see him cry. "I'm just going to… take Dinner for a walk. Yeah. That's what I was planning to do."

He walked over to where Dinner was sitting, grabbing it by one of its vines and dragging it off. It squawked in protest, but Atticus ignored it. He shuffled out of the cavern in a hurry. Arden and Glint, sitting on opposite sides of the cave, saw the whole thing and independently decided to follow him out to offer comfort to their leader.

"Where are you going?" Glint asked when their paths crossed.

"Business, shellfish," Arden said tersely, tapping his foot.

"Don't get in a funk, mister monk. You like to put up this facade of wisdom, but I know better." Glint snorted, which was strange considering he didn't have nostrils.

Not seeing any way to avoid the team-up, Arden left the cave with the purple clam by his side. "Your knowledge is flawed. I am indeed one with the universe."

Glint started shaking. It took Arden a moment to realize that he was laughing silently at him. "I see the way you get all riled up when Atticus is talking to Nina! You have emotions, just like everyone else here… you're just afraid to show them. Afraid of what people will think."

Arden's hair was starting to rise. He knew from experience that this was a precursor to the flames, so he leapt away from Glint, bounding down the mountainside on fleet feet. When he was really upset, the hair on his shoulders and back flared up. It wasn't painful at all, just embarrassing. Glint was right, though. He had a crush on Nina. He was jealous of Atticus. That was the real reason he wouldn't call him his brother. But emotion was chaos. Chaos led to strife. Strife led to defeat. Professor Monkey-puzzle always taught him that he needed to purge himself of earthly desires and find equilibrium in order to be the very best. He waited for Glint at the base of the cliff. It would take him a while to scale the mountain.

It did not take him a while to scale the mountain. Rather than roll down each individual switchback, Glint bypassed the problem entirely by rolling over the edge! He plummeted to the ground, which cracked beneath his weight.

"Yeah, no. You're not escaping that easily. Did it ever dawn on you that the professors maybe weren't the best teachers in the world?" Glint grunted, ripping himself free from the crater.

Arden halted, pupils dilating as he stared into the middle distance. It hadn't dawned on him, actually. He'd always just assumed that Monkey-puzzle knew what he was talking about. It had been preached as truth to him since the moment of his birth, and the thought that it might not be had never occurred to him… but in that moment, occur it did.

"Did they hurt you?" Glint asked.

Slowly, Arden nodded. All of the combat-oriented recombinants were subjected to physical experimentation. Only those geared toward support were left unscathed.

"Then that negates any credence their position might have had. The professors cannot be perfect and at the same time allow others to experience suffering, no matter how lowly those others may seem to them."

Arden gripped his bone as if his life depended on it. The tears came, then. The last time he'd cried was when he was only five years old.

"Hey, buddy," Glint said gently. "Let's get you back to the ol' living space. I doubt it'd cheer Atticus up much, seeing you cry."

=·=·=·=·=

His back pressed against a tree trunk, Atticus slid to the ground, exhaling deeply. His eyes were wet, but unlike Arden, he hadn't cried. Yet. The grass, drying out as the seasons changed, crunched beneath his weight. A soothing breeze blew against his face, but it didn't make him feel any better.

Dinner butted its head against him, giving him a empathetic look. "Saur?"

"Hey, buddy." Atticus scratched the creature's head. "I'm just trying to find my place in the world. They respect me, but they don't…" He searched for the right word, but it eluded him. "They don't… like me. I had thought that Mirage liked me. I guess I killed that when I killed Heath." He pouted quietly.

A small, purple rat ran out in front of them. It stopped and glared, chattering away furiously. Atticus would have fried it if he'd had it in him. The things were good eating. Not very filling, but succulent and fatty. As things were, he ignored it. Dinner whipped it with a vine, and it ran off, still chattering at them.

Mirage seemed to think he was a monster. Granted, he'd killed a lot of soldiers. There was no avoiding that. He needed to be more cheerful. Less serious. She'd said it herself: where was the gentle boy she'd known? It was time for Atticus to crack the shell. Lately, he'd been something of a double edged sword, cutting both his enemies and his friends. He realized that now.

"Professor Dogbane was right," Atticus muttered. "I am a monster. But I don't have to be."

He rose to his feet, mindless of the bark that clung to the back of his shirt. The shirt had a picture of some symbol on the front. The tag had read, 'L Thunder Badge T-Shirt'. He didn't know what a badge was, but he certainly knew about electricity. It had seemed appropriate.

Atticus walked back to the cave with Dinner. Leaves blew about on the wind as he trudged through the vegetation. He'd start being cheerful. Things were tough, but he had his family. He had Mirage. They'd be there for him.

He wasn't going to lose them. No matter what.

=·=·=·=·=

"Guys, I'm back!" Atticus called into the darkness. No one answered him. "Guys?"

Dinner cowered behind him, as if it could sense something he couldn't. He slowly walked inside and froze when he saw it. The other recombinants laid strewn about the cavern, all beaten to the point of unconsciousness. The air stunk of ozone.

"No…" Atticus sprinted to Mirage, who was on her back. She'd taken off the sweater, - Atticus hoped it was to fight, and not because she hated it. There was a black smudge on her lower lip, and he wasn't sure whether it was a bruise or a burn mark. At least she was still breathing.

"So, the trainer finally makes his appearance."

Atticus whirled around. Leaning against the opposing wall was a man not much older than him, maybe five years at the most, with spiky black hair and a red-and-white baseball cap hanging over his eyes. Standing next to him with its arms crossed over its chest and a self-satisfied smirk on its face was a bright yellow Pokemon with rabbit ears, bright red cheeks, and a jagged tail.

"Who do you think you are?" Atticus yelled.

The man smirked. He straightened and flipped the cap around. "I'm the guy who catches the crooks. These runts made Team Rocket seem intimidating." He chuckled. "Pretty irresponsible of you, leaving your Pokemon here unattended."

"My Pokemon?" Atticus bristled. "You ignorant fool," he muttered, throwing an arm out to the side. "They don't belong to anyone. But you mess with my brothers and sisters… you mess with _me_." Sparks jumped between his fingers. The man's eyes widened as he realized what Atticus was about to do.

"Pikachu, counter with a Thunderbolt!" he yelled. His Pokemon sprang into the air and discharged at the same time as Atticus, both of the yellow-haired beings surrounded with fields of crackling plasma. The blasts shot out, colliding mid-air, and a huge explosion erupted from the point of impact, singing Atticus's eyebrows.

"You don't mess with them!" Atticus roared. "You have no idea what we've been through! Just leave us alone!"

The man gaped. "You're one of them!"

"Yes I'm one of them! What lies have you been buying?!"

"They didn't tell me you were one of the escaped monsters. It doesn't matter. You're all murderers, and I'm bringing you in." He pointed an accusatory finger. "Hit him with Iron Tail!"

His Pokemon ignored him, cocking its head at Atticus. "Pika, pika."

"What? No, he's not… well, how would I know? Some primal instinct!"

A bead of sweat rolled down Atticus's head. They were having a conversation in the middle of a battle. What kind of bounty hunters were they?

"Chu…"

"Okay, the guy with the glasses kind of creeped me out. I don't see how that has anything to do with-"

"Pika!"

The man stook his hands in his pockets and started grumbling to himself. "Now I feel stupid."

"Pikachu."

"I do not!"

Atticus had had enough of their meandering. He stepped forward aggressively, his hand twisted into a clawed shape ready to unleash a storm of vengeance, but the mouse-like creature scampered up to him and extended a paw, an amiable smile on its face. "Pika pika!" it said.

He faltered, thrown off-guard. "…What?"

The human scratched his head sheepishly. "Uh… I made a big mistake. They hired me to hunt down monsters… but the only monster Pikachu sees right now is me." He grinned remorsefully and held out his hand, just like his Pokemon had. "Let's start from square one. My name is Ketchum. But most people just call me Ash."

=·=·=·=·=

Initially, Atticus had been furious. The man thought he could make up for beating the recombinants senseless with a handshake? But then Ash had pulled out several spray bottles of pink fluid and squirted the unconscious hybrids, and their wounds had faded from sight. He seemed nice enough now that he wasn't trying to hurt them.

Once Mirage and the others came to, Ash apologized profusely for his misdeeds. Like Atticus, they were slow to forgive him. But, seeing that Atticus bore no ill will toward the human, they also made peace.

"Hey, I'll tell you what," Ash exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "I'll head over to Pewter City and tell everyone that the news stories about you guys are all a bunch of propaganda! They know me around there pretty well. They'll know I'm telling the truth." He paused. "You didn't really kill those men, right?"

Atticus shifted uncomfortably. "We did."

There was a flash of fear on the man's face. "But… they deserved it?"

"Oh, definitely," said Nina.

"Gornisht helfn."

Ash nodded, relieved, and stood up. "I'll make something up. Don't know if they'd believe me if I told them who the real bad guys were." He shrugged on his backpack, and Pikachu vaulted onto his shoulder. "See you guys later!" With that, he walked away.

The recombinants were quiet for the next few minutes, unsure what to make of recent events. They'd made an ally beyond the walls of the facility, and all they'd needed to do was… lose to him. Sort of. If Atticus hadn't gone on a walk, they'd all be on the fast track to confinement. Finally, Trike broke the silence.

"Weird day."

"You're one to talk," Tiamat laughed.

Atticus shrugged with a smile. "We made several friends today. That's what's important."

"Mazel tov."

With nothing left to say on the matter, the Deltas did what they did best. They moved on, getting back to their normal lives - as normal as their lives ever got. Atticus approached Mirage, but she saw him coming and dashed away. Dejected, he slumped to the floor.

He was still staring at the floor when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and gave a start. It was Mirage. And she had put the hoodie back on!

"I didn't know how to say it before…" she muttered, a shy look on her face. "But I really love your gift. It was really thoughtful." Mirage hugged him. "I'm sorry I made you think I didn't like it."

That was the word Atticus had been looking for. Love.

=·=·=·=·=

"Go onnn."

Arden scratched at the floor nervously with a clawed foot, gripping his staff for support. Glint was wobbling back and forth beside him, and the two of them were looking over to where the rabbit girl was exercising.

"She's busy. I'll… I'll do it later."

"No you won't."

"No, I won't," Arden admitted.

Glint nudged him forward, but Arden dug in his talons and stayed put. "It's not that hard! Just tell her how you feel. I'll be right behind you."

Arden gulped and walked up to Nina hesitantly. "H-Hi," he stuttered.

She looked at him with a puzzled smile. "Hey, Arden. You don't normally talk to people. What's up?"

Glint gave him another nudge.

"I… I think you're… that is, I, uh-h-h." His back erupted into flames. They couldn't see his face beneath his mask, but it was just as hot as the fire that blazed. "Are you attractive? I mean! You th-think I'm… charming. No!" He froze like a deer in the headlights as Nina started giggling. "I-I-I'm sorry. This was a mistake." Arden dashed off, head bowed with embarrassment and tears in the corners of his eyes.

"No, wait!" Nina reached out for him. "I didn't mean…!"

The recombinant clam stared at her and rotated back and forth, shaking his entire body at her since he didn't have a head, before rolling off after his feathered friend. The hand that had reached after Arden now rested on her chest, a heart-broken frown on her face.

"I thought it was cute…"

=·=·=·=·=

 _Experiment: 9c5_

 _Codename: Norris_

 _Recombination: Hitmonlee/Hitmonchan_

 _Status: Active_

 _Date of Report: March 1st, 20XX_

 _Notes: A martial master rivalling 19c6. Both are under Professor Monkey-puzzle's jurisdiction. 9c5 is so far more successful than 19c6; a cold, emotionless killer who obeys only Monkey-puzzle and Asphodel. He completely ignores other professors unless they're on shift. Dangerous to humans and low-tier recombinants. Not a threat to more powerful Chimeras._


	9. Combat Evolved

_Experiment: 1v8_

 _Codename: Enya_

 _Recombination: Human/Entei_

 _Status: Active_

 _Date of Report: February 26th, 20XX_

 _Notes: Someone let it slip that other recombinants have escaped. The appropriate parties have been disciplined. 1v8 still obeys orders, but there is some other emotion behind her actions. Professor Nightshade will be able to psychoanalyze her once it's his shift._

=·=·=·=·=

Mirage jostled him awake at the break of dawn. There was hardly any light in the cave, but her eyes gleamed in the dark. She was wearing the sweater again. Atticus sat up immediately.

"What's wrong?" he mumbled, forcing himself awake. "Are they here?"

She shook her head and smiled. "I thought we could go hunting together. Just you and me. Surprise the others with a nice breakfast."

Atticus yawned and smiled sleepily. "You're not afraid of me?"

"Nope."

"You should be."

"Probably." She pulled him to his feet and put a finger over his mouth. "Hush, now, or it won't be much of a surprise."

The two of them stealthed their way out of the cavern, climbing over Drasil who lay slumped at the entrance with a bubble of snot - was it snot if he was a tree? Sap, more likely - coming out of his nose. It probably wasn't a nose, either, but Atticus didn't know what else to call it. The massive fourteen-year-old shifted, and Mirage got trapped under one of his arms. She gave Atticus an abashed grin as he pulled her out with a quiet chuckle. Drasil muttered something as he did but didn't wake.

Once they were outside, Atticus took a deep breath of the fresh, salubrious morning air. Mirage stood beside him with her hands in the pockets of the hoodie, a contented smile on her face.

"I wish every day could be like this," she said as they walked down the incline.

"So do I, Mirage. So do I."

She kicked a pebble off the cliff. "Atticus. Do you think they'll ever leave us alone?"

Atticus's head turned from side to side. "To live is to run."

Mirage was silent as they dropped off the last switchback into the grass. It crinkled under their weight as they walked into the verdant woods. There were bird Pokémon singing in the treetops, and bugs crawled around in the dirt. "Well, I'm glad I'm running with you," she said quietly, still smiling.

=·=·=·=·=

A few other Deltas had woken up after Atticus and Mirage left; Glint, Tiamat, Arden, Nina. They were initially concerned, but Glint pointed out that logically, if the scientists had come, they'd have taken everyone and not just two people. His playful derision of their paranoia had helped to calm their fears.

Now Arden was meditating, or pretending to. His legs were crossed in front of him, and he held his palms together as if in supplication. Nina wasn't sure whether it was something monastic or if he was just ignoring her. She bit her lip and walked up to him. "Hi, Arden."

He didn't reply, so she sat down next to him and rested a hand on his knee. "Arden. I'm sorry for making you think that I… for mocking you."

Arden opened his eyes and looked at her, first impatiently and then hopefully. His ochre irises glistened in the dim light of dawn, and his hands dropped to his lap. "Do you really mean it?" he said, twiddling his fingers. Nina nodded, and as she smiled at him, Arden's face lit up.

"You wanna do something together?" she asked.

Beneath his skull-cap, Arden blushed. "Like what?"

She shrugged with a frown. "I don't know. Not a lot to do."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Thought it sounded good." Her face lit up. "Oh! Let's practice together! I challenge you to a friendly duel." Nina jumped to her feet and put her fists up with a cocky grin. Arden rose as well, and soon the two began exchanging blows. They were almost evenly matched, but unlike the training Arden had gone through at the facility, he actually enjoyed getting kicked in the nose… as long as it was a friend doing the kicking. It seemed like Monkey-puzzle was wrong after all.

=·=·=·=·=

"You guys shouldn't be doing that."

Tiamat and Galatea started snickering, ignoring Glint's command as they continued to balance rocks on Smorgas' belly while he slept. "We'd better listen," laughed Galatea as she did the exact opposite. "He's the maven."

"Galatea, I swear-"

"Don't call me that. It makes me sound like I'm an old lady. My name is Gal."

"Gal, then. You guys are being so rude."

Tiamat rolled her eyes. Since her slime was too sticky for stacking to be a proper challenge, she simply gathered the rocks for Gal to use, which the cow girl then cleaned off before placing the rocks on top of one another. Their pile was at that point almost a foot above the pink recombinant's peak.

"You're always rude."

"Sarcastic. Verbal abuse is different than physical abuse. What you're doing is just demeaning."

"You'd rather I stack rocks on Drasil?" They paused and looked over to where the grey behemoth was snoring away, and the three of them shuddered simultaneously. Smorgas sighed in his sleep, as if sensing the resonance.

Glint shook and rolled away, his gem-light pulsing rapidly. "Whatever," he sighed.

Tiamat glanced after him and harrumphed under her breath, wondering why the purple boy was always on her case. "He's so annoying," she muttered.

"Don't be too hard on him," Gal replied, scrubbing furiously at a goo-covered stone. "It's his shtick."

"He doesn't do it with anyone else!"

Gal gave her a small smile. "You're right. He doesn't." She placed another rock on the pile, which wobbled and then toppled, pebbles bouncing off of Smorgas' rotundity. "Oy, bupkes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I'm half goat, so bupkes-"

"Not that!" Tiamat groaned, covering her face with several tentacles.

"Oh." Gal chuckled and started away. "I wouldn't worry about it. You two will figure it out eventually."

Tiamat ground her beak and slithered after the grass-covered recombinant. "Galatea! That's not an answer!"

=·=·=·=·=

Atticus and Mirage crouched in the bushes, watching the wild Pokémon as it grazed. They'd caught lots of the purple rats and green caterpillars, but the creature in front of them now was a rare treat. It had big black eyes and was covered in scales the color of sand - an odd choice of camouflage, considering their forested environs. Atticus's mouth watered. He turned to Mirage and gave a great sweeping gesture as he bowed to her.

"Ladies first."

"But that would mean you."

He turned red. "I didn't mean to be chauvinistic."

Mirage giggled, ruffling his hair. "I'm just teasing you." She raised her blades. "I'd be more than happy to claim this kill."

She dashed out of the bushes toward the shrew. It saw her coming, barely leaping out of the way as she drove her elbow into the ground. It ran off, but Atticus moved to intercept. He didn't attack, though, since he wanted to make Mirage happy. He simply blocked it at every turn. Frantic, the creature turned to fight, throwing up a cloud of sand in the girl's eyes. Mirage sputtered and coughed, rubbing the grit away.

"Little pest!" she said, laughing despite the sand in her face. "This is fun!"

As the Pokémon tried to run past her, she swept its feet out from under it and slashed it across the stomach. Atticus winced, remembering his gastrectomy, but the shrew apparently had thicker skin than him, as Mirage's blade didn't eviscerate the creature.

"Guess I'm out of practice," Mirage chuckled. "My arms aren't as sharp as they used to be. Night night." With that, she severed its life connection.

Atticus plopped to the ground and gave her a thumbs-up. The two of them were grinning like little kids. Mirage grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet with a laugh.

"Maybe we could come out here again and you can cut down some trees," he said.

Mirage nodded with a smile, scooping up their prize like it weighed nothing. "I'd like that."

Atticus threw the bag of rats and bugs over his shoulder, and the two of them headed back to the cave. He didn't feel bad anymore. In fact, even though they were being hunted by Asphodel and the other professors, Atticus finally felt like he'd found his place in the world.

=·=·=·=·=

"Hey, everyone! We're back!"

Glint glanced away from what he'd been playing with Drasil, Hecate, Smorgas, and Sweet. The recombinants had invented a game where each player had a hand of seven carved stones. They took turns asking for stones with the same markings. When a person had two stones of the same type, they could either use a 'special attack' against another player, dealing imaginary damage to them which they kept track of with sticks called 'damage counters', or they could keep asking for stones. They could also use an action to go on the defensive, subtracting the number of matching symbols they held from other players' attacks. The more stones of the same type they had, the more damage they dealt, and the person who lasted the longest was the winner. Sweet moved his stones around with his mouth, while Glint had to fuss with the gaps in his shell. Hecate was currently in the lead.

Atticus and Mirage entered the cave, each carrying a veritable treasure trove of meaty goodness. Nina let out a cheer when she saw their haul, and Ferrus started making a fire by scraping his sword against his shield to produce sparks. The sword's eye and ribbon were dark green this time, which reminded Atticus that he needed to talk with the enigmatic recombinant.

"Ferrus. We need to talk."

"Yo."

The human hybrid snorted. "What happened to Mister Decorum?"

"Surrounded by friends, I'd rather talk the way they do than the way the professors did. What's up?"

Atticus coughed awkwardly. "I'll cut to the chase. No pun intended. What are you a recombination of?"

Ferrus sheathed himself, a closed-off gesture. "I don't think that's important."

"I feel like it might be."

The sword sighed. "I don't like talking about it. Everyone expects me to be something I'm not."

"Join the club, pal."

Ferrus floated up to eye level. The metal Chimera drew his blade once again, suggesting that he felt more comfortable. "If it'll make you feel better." He paused. "Kecleon mosaic. That's why vantaglass and moinvar are practically immune to our powers. I can change my type at will."

"Ahh. Is that why your eye changes color?"

He spun around, his shield and sheath drifting in an orbit about him. "As well as my ribbon. But that's an involuntary response to external stimuli. It isn't conscious like the type changing." Ferrus made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "The relationship between cause and effect is still unknown."

Atticus nodded, relieved, and walked away. He wasn't sure what he'd been worried would be the case. It had just been a vague, instinctive fear.

=·=·=·=·=

The Deltas were sitting down to eat when Ash and Pikachu came running into the cave, a panicked expression on their faces.

"A bunch of men with firearms are marching this way!" he panted. "Maybe thirteen soldiers, and they've got a tank following about twenty feet behind them."

Atticus and the others bolted upright and rushed outside. Sure enough, there was an armed force coming into view through the foliage, approaching from the west. It would have been more strategic of the recombinants to make their stand in the cave, but Atticus let his hot-headedness get the best of him and bounded down the mountainside. Mirage, Arden, Sweet, Trike, and Valentine followed. Glint and Smorgas watched from the cliff while the rest of them took shelter. Drasil shepherded Ash back inside.

"Let me help!" the human said. Drasil ignored him, pushing him insistently.

The men from the facility arrived, forming a perimeter around the base of the mountainside. Their tank kept crawling as it caught up. One of the soldiers stepped forward, his arms folded behind him. Unlike the rest, this man wasn't wearing a helmet. His inky black hair was slicked back, and the authoritative cut of his chin drew attention to his broad chest.

"Listen up, freaks!" he barked. "I am Marshall Law! We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way! Come quietly if you know what's good for you!"

In reply, Atticus shot a lightning bolt at him. The electricity parted around Marshall, as if there were an invisible dome surrounding the man. Marshall nodded, drew the pistol from his holster, and shot Atticus in the chest. Luckily - or perhaps intentionally on the human's part - the bullet missed his heart by several inches. He grunted and crumpled to the ground.

The tank arrived, though it still had to position its cannon, and the other soldiers lifted their weapons. Marshall raised a hand in the air and gave a curt gesture with two fingers, and his men opened fire.

"Time for me to step up," Arden muttered. He stomped on one end of his staff, which lay on the ground, which sent it spinning into the air. With a fluid sweep of his hands he caught it and began deflecting the bullets away from his friends.

"Hurry up and heal him!" Glint called from the top of the cliff.

Mirage and Valentine both gave him death glares. "It's not that easy to heal bullet wounds! We'll have to extract the bullet, and if it's in a trachea he won't be able to breathe while we're doing it! We need some time!"

Trike was trembling, his eye darting around frantically at the storm of bullets. Sweet took a deep breath and blew out an icy blizzard, freezing one of the soldiers where he stood. Rooted to the ground but not immobile and clearly pissed off, the man took careful aim and shot the candy boy in the cone.

Sweet plummeted to the ground and started crying. "Why d-d-does this e-even hu-hurt?" he sobbed. "I-I-I'm m-made out of c-c-cream and sugar!"

Smorgas saw the whole thing. His eyelids flew open, revealing a gaze that could turn a person to stone, and he leapt off the cliff, soaring through the air like a majestic eagle piloting a blimp before smashing to the ground in front of the tank, which was about to bombard them. The impact tore the earth to shreds, and Smorgas drove his fist into the tank's cannon just as it fired. With the shell blocked by his fist, the force of the blast was directed inward, and the resulting explosion blew out the sides of the tank. One of the men inside crawled away from the wreckage with melted armor. If the others were still alive, they wouldn't be for long.

Not demoralized in the slightest, Marshall's men were still firing, and Arden was wearing out. Trike clenched his eye shut. "No! My… friends!" he cried. Something strange happened as he thrashed around. Both Trike and the Pokémon attached to him started glowing with white light. As if trying to escape the chaos, Trike zoomed fifty feet into the air, glowing more and more brightly all the while. His form was nothing but a white blob.

"Leave… my… friends…"

His form changed. Two claw-tipped arms broke away from his torso, which changed from a barbell to a saucer shape, and magnets emerged from his shoulders. The glow faded to reveal him glaring at the soldiers with two red eyes.

"ALONE!" Trike's voice boomed as he raised his arms in the air. A surge of magnetic energy ripped through the valley, so powerful that Atticus could actually feel the iron in his blood being lifted by it. The bullet in his shoulder tore itself free, and Mirage immediate began healing him. The soldiers' weapons were ripped from their grasps, flying up to where Trike floated and past him all the way over the mountain! Atticus felt really bad for the soldiers inside the tank if they were still alive, for it too was tossed in a vast arc over the peak. A small metal circle zipped away from Marshall, escaping the recombinants notice.

"No!" the leader of the humans yelled, grabbing for the metal circle in vain. "Retreat! Leave the injured behind!"

The soldiers scrambled away, tripping over themselves in their haste to get away from certain demise. "You're all washed up!" Glint cackled, letting loose a blast of water to add insult to injury.

Smorgas and Arden started after them, but Atticus held up a hand and weakly muttered, "No. Let them… go. Heal… the injured man."

His friends looked at him with abject shock. Valentine leaped to her feet and ran over to the severely burned human, who was struggling to breathe.

"Are you sure?" Arden asked. "Letting them escape seems likely to come back and bite us."

"Thame goeth for the hurt guy."

Atticus gasped as vitality returned to his system. "Yes. I'm sure. We're not monsters." The other recombinants looked angry and scared, but Mirage smiled proudly, and that was enough.

=·=·=·=·=

 _Experiment: 7c7_

 _Codename: Magnetar_

 _Recombination: Magnemite/Beldum_

 _Status: Active_

 _Date of Report: March 30th, 20XX_

 _Notes: Theoretically, 7c7 should be able to generate magnetic fields as powerful as those of a neutron star. However, that level of power won't manifest until he is fully evolved. We must ensure that he is loyal to us before he evolves, or else we will have to remove ferromagnetic metals from our designs._


	10. Degrees of Separation

_Experiment: 3g4_

 _Codename: Moinvar_

 _Notes: MOdulus INVARiable. Power-resistant metal. For use in recombinant cells. Derived from the recombinant byproducts, the shell of a Shelgon, and common steel. A similar alloy is widely used in Pokémon gyms._

=·=·=·=·=

The soldier refused to take off his, or her, helmet. This was probably more out of fear than anything else, since he, or she, seemed to be non-hostile. At least, they had unequipped all their weaponry and given it up to the Deltas. There was nothing overly dangerous, anyway, since Trike had stripped them of all metal. It was probably a good thing that Ferrus had remaining in the cavern. Drasil had had to pry him down from the ceiling.

A few of the rocks on the floor had dug down into the ground, where they were now permanently imbedded. Trike told them that these were natural lodestones, and that they were repulsed by his magnetic blast being of the same polarity.

That was the other thing. Trike had been a lot more talkative, and a whole lot smarter. Almost as if he'd gone from a child to a young teenager in the blink of an eye. Mirage assured him that this was, indeed, what had happened, but Atticus himself wasn't so sure. He'd never evolved… had never heard of this thing called evolution, actually. Some healthy skepticism was always advantageous.

"…no, see, electromagnetism doesn't work that way," Trike was saying to his captive audience. Hecate, Galatea, and Ferrus were listening intently. "I can't move things left or right. Maybe when I'm evolved, I can warp the magnetic field lines into a helical shape… but for now it's a simple push-pull reaction."

Ash came jogging into the cave. "Hey, uh… what were you planning to do with that guy?" He pointed to the soldier, who played cards silently with Arden and Valentine. "Because whatever it is, you should probably do it soon."

Atticus shrugged. "I don't know. What's the rush?"

"Well… the bad guys know your location now. I still haven't been able to place a name on them. They don't act like any of the major crime syndicates around here. Anyway… Some of my friends in Pewter City are willing to offer refuge for you. Your enemies won't know you're there. But if that guy comes along…"

"Or girl."

"Whatever. Same result no matter what their gender is."

"I see your point," Atticus nodded. "Hey! Group meeting!"

Most of the recombinants gathered around them almost immediately; Glint and Smorgas were slow to arrive. When the soldier realized that Arden and Valentine had gotten up and left, they stood up and followed, having nothing better to do.

"Okay," Atticus said, pointing to them. "The jig is up. We need to know where you stand. Are you with us? Or against us."

The soldier made a noncommittal motion and Atticus growled at them. "Take off the mask. Now."

With all the recombinants glaring at the trooper, they reluctantly raised their arms to their helmet and pulled it off, revealing shoulder-length brown hair, long lashes, and sensuous pink lips. Atticus nudged Ash with an elbow. They waited expectantly, but she didn't say anything. She just glared back at them.

"Well?"

After a long pause, the woman sighed. "Thank you. For healing me."

"You're welcome. Now answer the question."

"Is there really a choice?"

Nina growled at her. "Atticus, this is insane! We need to finish her off while we still have the chance!"

"No." Atticus cocked his head at the woman. "If you want to leave, I won't stop you."

"But-"

"End of story."

The soldier gave him a thoughtful look. "The recombinants are monsters. You were designed as weapons. But… you healed me. You say you'll allow me to leave. This is irreconcilable with the way the world is supposed to be. I… I must go."

Atticus nodded to her morosely as she got to her feet and started walking out of the cave. She was almost gone when Valentine spoke up.

"Wait. Please."

The woman halted at the entrance. "Why?"

Valentine blushed. "We aren't monsters. It doesn't matter what they say."

"Valentine, if she wants to leave-"

"Ezra."

Atticus cut off abruptly as the woman walked back toward them, a despondent smile on her face.

"My name is Ezra," she said. "Ezra Snowden. And maybe you're right. I don't think you are the monsters they say you are. It will be interesting to see how things turn out."

Atticus's eyes were getting wet, though he was smiling. It would have been extraordinarily bad if she had decided to leave and report their whereabouts to the professors… or whoever was in charge.

Ash apparently had similar feelings, if the deep sigh of relief was anything to go off. "Glad you're not an enemy," the young man said.

"Pika pika."

"Right. Atticus? Mind if I take charge?"

Atticus motioned for him to proceed.

"Alrighty! Everyone up and out! We're going to hide out in Pewter City until things settle down. My friends there are going to let us use their house. Hopefully this will last a while."

The Deltas started moving toward the exit, gathering up what little possessions they owned. "Somehow, I get the feeling it won't," Glint said.

"Don't jinx it."

They stole through the forest like shadows in the night. Ezra moved just as well as the recombinants, though their combat trainings were of radically different strains, and Ash moved decently for someone who had never undergone specialized instruction.

Of course, those of them that could fly did, bypassing the need for acrobatic proficiency entirely. Hecate glided beside Atticus gracefully and quietly, buzzing softly. Trike, on the other hand, was a complete showoff, doing aerial loops and aileron rolls as he went. The trip took most of the rest of the day. When they arrived, Flint was there waiting for them, along with a man who looked around Ash's age. He had short black hair and tan skin and wore a content smile. There was a strong resemblance between him and the older human. The younger man was wearing an orange shirt beneath a snot-green jumper. The two of them both walked around with closed eyes. How they got anywhere without crashing into stuff was anyone's guess.

"Brock!" Ash exclaimed, a broad grin on his face. "You're here!"

"I can always make time for you, Ash," the man chuckled. "I'll never forget our adventures together. Come on, then. Let's get your refugee friends away from prying eyes."

Brock and Flint led them to a stone mansion in the heart of the city with big, bright red double doors out front. As they approached, a bunch of little kids burst out of the house and ran up to them excitedly. One of them dipped a strange plastic stick into a small receptacle before holding it up to her lips and blowing bubbles at them. Glint blew bubbles back, the opalescent orbs emerging from the gaps in his shell.

"Hey, cool!" a little boy said, grabbing Mirage's arm by the flat and holding it up to the light. "I've seen these on TV! You can cut a can with it and still slice a tomato!" Mirage held a hand to her mouth as she giggled.

A toddler with his thumb in his mouth walked right up to Atticus and looked him in the eyes. "You haff weird eyes," the kid mumbled before walking away. Atticus blinked and shook his head. What was he even supposed to say to that?

"Are we going to be staying here?" Valentine asked with awe.

"Not quite," Flint said. "There isn't enough room for all of you. We built a lean-to out back, which has room for all of you, even Drasil."

"You built it… overnight?"

"Yup. That's the power of Pokémon for you. 'Course, you'll want to be careful." Brock pantomimed a house collapsing with his hands. Atticus was expecting shoddy workmanship, but surprisingly, the facsimile looked like a normal house. White-washed walls, a plain wooden door, and a slate roof. Not much compared to the other houses, but way better than their past accommodations. Everything was subjective.

Lazy grey clouds drifted across the sky as they talked. The temperature dropped a few degrees over the next minute. Mirage and Valentine started shivering, so Atticus shepherded them inside as Brock showed Drasil where his custom-made entrance was.

"Dinner's at six!" Flint called after them. "I expect you to be on time!"

His stomach growled. Images of paste and burnt meat crossed his mind; the thought didn't occur to him that Flint's dinner might be different than their usual fare. Ash and Pikachu followed the Deltas in.

"See you at dinner!"

=·=·=·=·=

Glint and Arden were in the room they'd designated as theirs. It was furnished with two big, soft rectangles, a timber block with sliding drawers near the entry, and an upright metal pole with a bulb at the end which produced light when Arden fiddled with the switch. Ash had called it a lamp.

"Here, let me hang a lampshade on it for you," he'd said before he left.

Now, they were just talking, like two old friends. Glint had heaved himself on top of one of the rectangles and was resting there. Arden was pacing around the room restlessly.

"Ever wonder how we know the words we know?"

"No," Arden said. "We only know the words the professors know; their meanings derived from circumstantial evidence." As he leaned against the far wall, there was a loud crunch, and the partition collapsed, taking Arden with it.

"Oh, look. You've broken the fourth wall. Fantastic."

=·=·=·=·=

Mirage glided through town with a small smile. The feeling of safety, temporary as it may have been, was liberating. Even the critical gazes she received from the residents of Pewter City couldn't kill the good mood she was in. This must've been what it felt like every day for the free humans and Pokémon.

She passed the museum. That's what Flint had called the biggest building when she'd asked about going into town; he'd shown her a map, not that she'd needed it. Mirage had always had an instinct for finding her way back home, if her six-by-eight solid steel cell could be considered 'home.' Several of the humans nudged each other as she went by, pointing to her arm-blades. "Unnatural," she heard one say. "But if Brock vouches for them…"

There was a strong wind blowing. Mirage shivered despite her hoodie. She didn't know why she was so sensitive to the cold. Frail skin, perhaps. The dress probably didn't help, but she was reluctant to take it off. For much of her life, it had been the only thing grounding her to reality – if it was cultural, that meant there was an entire culture full of people like her. Hope in white velvet.

"Hey, Mirage, wait up!"

Mirage rounded a corner and paused. Atticus came jogging up to her.

"Oh. It's you. Hi, Atticus."

She felt a pang as his wide grin disappeared. She hadn't meant to sound cold. Atticus had just caught her by surprise. Mirage sat down on a rock as Atticus stuck his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry, Atticus. I really am happy to see you. You just caught me by surprise."

"That's alright, then," he muttered, pacing in circles. "You know… I wish you wouldn't call me 'Atticus.'"

Mirage blinked. "But that's your name."

"Yeah. But… you make it sound so formal. It'd be nice if… I don't know… you called me something else."

"You want, what, another codename? That only I would use."

Atticus nodded.

"Okay. How about… Icky," she smiled, rising to her feet.

"Icky." His face fell ever so slightly. "Is that what you think of me?"

"Not remotely! It's, like, an ironic name," she replied. Under her breath, so that he couldn't hear, she muttered, "It sounded better in my head."

A coy grin crept across his face, as did a tinge of red. He'd been pretending to be oblivious about his attractions to cover up his self-doubt, but her words were slowly dispelling his insecurity. "Oh? How ironic are we talking?"

Mirage turned to face him, her back facing a brick wall. "Pretty ironic," she laughed, raising her arms in a playful shrug.

"Hmm." His confidence sufficiently boosted, Atticus made a decision. "Ironic enough for me to do… this?" Atticus asked, taking Mirage's hands in his own and gently pressing her against the wall.

"Uh. Yeah." Mirage's breath caught in her throat as he leaned in. She could almost feel his electricity flowing through her veins. The girl's viridescent spike poked into his chest, and he could feel her machine-gun pulse beneath his touch. There was a pale scar across his cheek she hadn't noticed before.

Her lips were as soft as satin, her breath hot in his mouth. His thumbs pressed into the palms of her hands as he tightened his grip, and her fingers closed around them. She breathed in his musk, one of campfire smoke, sweat and blood.

He was gentle, mindful of her blades, her delicate form, everything. This was a side to him she'd wanted to see again since the day they escaped. His hands slid down to her waist, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Trembling with anticipation, Mirage opened her mouth to permit him entry and–

"Whoa! What's going on here?"

They flew apart, whirling around to see who had intruded upon their moment, who had violated their sanctuary. Standing at the corner were four human teenagers, as old as them or perhaps older.

"Nothing!" Atticus yelped. "It isn't what it looks like!"

"Smooth, Icky. Real smooth," Mirage muttered, arms crossed over her chest. She'd never felt more wounded.

A tall, scrawny kid with thick eyebrows who was clearly the leader – sneered distastefully. "Were you just kissing a Pokémon?"

"No!"

"That's disgusting!" one of them retched. Atticus's face turned bright red as the humans began laughing at him, pointing at him, mocking him.

"You sick freak!"

"Poképhile!"

His head bowed with shame as the humans continued their verbal assault. A black cloud formed around the boy. Mirage could actually feel the humiliation coming off him in waves, his aura a monochromatic abyss of self-loathing. She tried to take his hand, but he pulled away.

"No," he muttered. "No, no. I'm not that. I'm not different. I'm just like you!" He reached out for the human boys, tears in his eyes, but they took off, laughing over their shoulders.

"Icky…" What was wrong with him? He'd never acted like this before. "It's okay. They're gone now."

Atticus shook his head rapidly. "No, it's not! I'm not a monster!" He bolted away from her, leaving behind a miasma of negativity.

"But…" she whispered. "I thought we had something. Something real… Are you really so afraid of what other people will think?"

=·=·=·=·=

 _Experiment: 4g5_

 _Codename: GFG_

 _Notes: The grounding field generator's field test was an unqualified success. Unfortunately, Law was unable to retrieve the prototype, which puts a damper on the Board of Director's enthusiasm for the project. Despite their reluctance, we will begin production of Mk II shortly, which will prove to be a crucial defense against the recombinants' abilities._


	11. Blasting Off Again

_Experiment: 17c3_

 _Codename: Atticus_

 _Recombination: Human/Mew_

 _Status: Missing_

 _Date of Report: February 29, 20XX_

 _Notes: 17c3's only move is Thunderbolt; though much more powerful than the same move executed by an ordinary Pokémon, it is nonetheless easy to counteract. Field reports indicate that the escaped experiments do not know how to work together as a team. The data we've compiled give us an edge over them._

=·=·=·=·=

"Dinner is served!"

Atticus stared at a pile of what looked like white worms, bloody vomit, and dirt clods on his ceramic plate. Mirage was sitting as far away from the boy as possible, not looking at him.

"What exactly are we eating?" Drasil asked. They were eating in the lean-to so that there would be room for the enormous recombinant.

"You're acting like you've never had spaghetti and meatballs before," Flint laughed.

"Hah, no. Try nutrient sludge and energy blocks, or little tubes of gelatinous proteins. IV drips pumping complex sugars directly into my bloodstream. On my luckiest birthday, ever, I got liver-and-chocolate-chip cake with asphalt ice cream. Whether or not it was actually made with those ingredients, I don't know. Most days I was fortunate to receive something that wasn't slightly poisonous."

The humans sat silently, awkwardly, as Glint continued to give graphic depictions of the food he used to eat. His descriptions were not far off from the kinds of consumables Atticus once choked down. Hecate was struggling to wield her utensils with her cumbersome claws. She managed to pick up the fork and stab at the food, only for the worms to slide right off. Finally, she gave up all pretense of decorum and buried her mandibles in the dish.

Atticus swirled the dish around with his own fork. He was still feeling mortified by his encounter with the teenagers. By the way he'd treated Mirage. By his own inferiority. Was he really the most powerful recombinant? He didn't think so. Not even close.

He'd wanted to be human ever since he was little, being surrounded by people who looked just like him but were so much better off than him. They treated him like the grime of the earth – no, less than grime – but the mere fact that they were in a position to do so made him… what was the word? It had made him jealous.

Then Mirage had come along, turning his world upside-down. She was completely different. Maybe that was part of the problem. The difference. There was a gulf between him, the humans, and the recombinants. He didn't fit seamlessly into any group. He didn't… _belong_ … anywhere.

"You decided whether to eat or not yet?"

Brock's remark startled Atticus. "How long…"

"You've been lost in thought for the last dozen minutes. Those noodles are going to get cold, you know. I promise, you'll love it."

Atticus nodded and raised a forkful of spaghetti to his mouth. The flavor hit him in waves. Salt! Meat! Umami! It played at his tongue, making his taste buds dance, before the warm crawl spread to his throat. The meatballs were soft, the noodles were tender, so unlike the stringy burnt meat they'd eaten exclusively in the wilds. He swallowed with wide eyes. A quick glance around the table showed that the other recombinants had similar reactions to the novelty.

Atticus had no words to express how he felt, so he made do with a simple "Wow." Brock chuckled and turned back to his conversation with Ash. Something about dawn in another country. Must have been some incredible sunrises to warrant an entire dinner conversation, but not incredible enough to distract him from his gloom.

The doorbell rang. Flint started to get up, but Brock waved him back. "I'll see who it is," he said. "You stay here and relax."

Unfortunately, relaxation was hard to come by when surrounded with little kids. Atticus still wasn't sure whether Flint was the father or grandfather, but in any case, there were certainly a lot of them. Cute, but loud.

"I want to fly too!" one of them cried, scrambling on top of Hecate's shoulders.

"I'm gonna get a Char… a Char-zard," a little girl said around a mouthful of spaghetti. "Then we'll fly all the time."

"Don't wanna fly on a Pokémon. Wanna fly by _myself_."

"Humans can't fly, dum-dum!"

Atticus's ears perked up when he heard Brock from the hall. "I just got into town, so I wouldn't know anything about that. Here, let me get my dad for you." Moments later, Brock walked with faux nonchalance into the room, a concerned look on his face. To the recombinants, it was obvious he was pretending not to be scared for the kids' sake. "They're here asking about you," he whispered. "Come on, out through the back. Dad will stall them."

Flint rose to his feet as Ash and Brock herded the Deltas out of their seats. He had the air of a man who'd seen it all. Atticus imagined that at that point – after meeting them – he just might have. "Kids, stay here and finish your dinner. I've got some talking to do."

"Bye, strange people!" the kids called after them as they rushed out of Flint's house.

Brock took the lead. He and Ash pulled several mechanical orbs from their pockets, from which emerged Pokémon which they sent to scout ahead for any men from the facility. There were several squads of them patrolling the town, searching the alleyways and interrogating civilians. It was only a matter of time before someone snitched on them. The clock was ticking.

Arden asked where they were going. Brock didn't have an answer. They had no specific goal in mind, other than getting away from Pewter City. That was the general theme of their travels, Atticus realized. No real goals other than _run_.

"Secret police they ain't," Tiamat muttered as a patrol passed by, oblivious to their presence.

"To be fair," Ash whispered, "it's been decades since anyone has been in man-to-man – sorry, humanoid-to-humanoid – combat situations." Not that even half of them were humanoid. "They're not good at it because they're out of practice. Used to others doing their dirty work for them. Isn't that why you were created?"

It was a good point. Might explain why they were hesitant to use other recombinants against the Deltas; they didn't want to lose any of their weapons. It wasn't like recombinants were mass-produced. As if reading his mind, Glint said, "You can't just buy us off shelves."

"Yet."

Atticus shook his head, trying to dispel the intrusive thought. If there had been more than one Strongarm after them, they would have been in a world of hurt. And things were only going to get more difficult from then on out.

"Are you going to go back to them now that they're right in front of us?"

Atticus looked back to see Valentine grabbing Ezra's hand.

"No. I've made up my mind." The human woman ruffled Valentine's hair. Hard to believe they were drafting people so young. Ezra was smiling, but it wasn't a completely happy expression. More… thoughtful. Atticus supposed they all had a lot on their minds.

"They're willing to hide you, not fight for you," Brock said. "If we encounter any soldiers…"

Atticus nodded. "Count me out of the fight. I was useless in the last one."

"Pikachu can fill in for him. He's got the lightning, and he's not a one trick pony."

The yellow haired boy flinched. Ash hadn't meant to be flippant, but his remark hit a little too close to home. Pikachu hopped on his shoulder and rubbed his cheek.

"Pika, chu," the electric mouse said supportively. Atticus sighed and smiled, scratching Pikachu's head.

"Thanks, buddy."

Ezra took the lead then. Ash and Brock might have been experienced adventurers, but the soldier had professional training; combat skills perhaps a bit rusty, but espionage up to snuff. She flattened herself against a house, peering around the bend before waving them forward. They were almost in the clear.

"This is the part where we get apprehended," Glint whispered.

It was not the part where they got apprehended. The seventeen of them made it to the forest without conflict and started moving at top speed away from the city toward the caves. Atticus figured if they were searching the city, they'd already been through the caverns. If there were still men from the facility at their cave, they'd go somewhere else. If not, they had some time to plan, but in any event, they couldn't stick around for long.

"Atticus…"

His face turned red as Mirage approached. "Hey," he said.

"We're always running from them. But you don't have to run from your feelings."

Atticus shook his head. "You wouldn't understand."

"I think I already do." She put a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "I can feel your emotions, you know."

He didn't know. That made things more embarrassing.

"You're afraid. Angry. Sad. Confused. But beneath it all is someone who genuinely cares. Maybe he cares too much."

"I do not."

Mirage frowned and withdrew her hand. "If you're going to be that way, fine. I don't need you. None of us do." She immediately regretted her words, but it was too late. The damage was already done. He sped up, an inexorably forlorn look on his face, leaving her to wallow.

=·=·=·=·=

Hecate was the first to notice the base camp set up in front of the mountain. Not for the first time, Atticus reflected on how uncanny the girl's senses were. He wasn't complaining. If not for her, they wouldn't have noticed the men until it was too late… but it was still creepy.

"What do we do now?" Valentine whispered.

They turned to him, their de facto leader. "I don't know," he said. They were taken aback by his answer. He was supposed to be the man with a plan. "I mean, what can we do? They're everywhere…"

Ash snapped his fingers. "Another region."

The Deltas stared at him vacantly, but Ezra nodded. "The Kanto branch of the Devon Corporation. Their jurisdiction's limited to the Kanto region, so travelling to another region… without diplomatic immunity, you could still be deported, but it would be much harder for them to persecute you."

Brock gave a start. "What does the Devon Corporation have to do with this?"

Ezra cocked her head, looking at him as if he were an idiot. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"They're the ones who created the recombinants. The Devon Corporation is solely responsible for Project Chimera."

=·=·=·=·=

 **End of Part One**

 **Project Chimera will return, 2017**


	12. Sting Operation

_Experiment: 1mX_

 _Codename: Montage_

 _Recombination: Varies (see Notes)_

 _Status: Alpha Phase_

 _Date of Report: August 19, 20XX_

 _Notes: Use of guide RNA to transfer viable alleles into human sperm and eggs is the fundamental principle behind the success of the Chimera project. New research suggests that a similar process may be used to modify the genome of grown organisms. 1mX refers to an ongoing series of experiments on mature hominid subjects._

=·=·=·=·=

"Three-hundred-twelve, three-hundred-thirteen, three-hundred-fourteen… Dude, you're more of a machine than Trike," Arden said. His language had gotten a lot breezier since he'd started hanging out with Nina. "I've been holding your feet down for the last hour."

"Sorry," Atticus grunted, completing his three-hundred-and-fifteenth sit-up and wiping the sweat off his brow. There was a lot of it. "I can be done now."

"Good. Some of us have lives, you know." Arden proffered him a hand, which he tiredly accepted. The Deltas all exercised on a daily basis, but the two of them were in a league of their own, and Atticus's work ethic was unrivaled.

Brock walked up to them carrying a measuring tape and a thermometer. Arden cringed as the man said, "Hey, chicken boy, time for your checkup!" Atticus started chuckling, but cut off short when Brock turned to him. "After that, we're giving _you_ a bath."

"Ah!" he yelped, his hackles rising. He tried to run, but Ash came out of nowhere and put him in a pinch grip tie.

"Come on. I might not be a Pokémon doctor, but I know how to give animals baths!"

"I am not an animal! Let go!"

Atticus could have just electrocuted him, but that wouldn't have reflected well on him. Besides, he'd taken a liking to the human, despite the fact that he was presently dragging him toward a tub full of soapy water. Where had they even gotten a tub? Atticus flushed as his clothes were stripped away as well as his dignity, leaving only his underwear. He grabbed the sides of the tub when Ash tried to get him in the water.

"Brock, I need a hand!"

"No-o-o!"

"Coming!" Brock shouted, running over to them with a wave.

"No-o-o-o!"

Together, the two humans dunked him and began scouring. The water turned a murky reddish-brown almost instantly; they had to have Glint refill it multiple times, but two dubs and a scrub later, Atticus was clean. He stood, shivering, as Brock tossed him a towel.

"Now, to comb your hair."

"What!"

=·=·=·=·=

Silky golden mane.

Sparkling purple eyes.

Healthy, tanned skin.

"Tada!" Brock exclaimed, gesturing to the new Atticus, who had his arms folded across his chest and an icy frown on his face. The Deltas stared at him, entranced.

"Uh, Mirage, are you okay?"

Mirage blinked a few times and looked down. The grass was stained with blood. "Ah!" she shrieked, flushing as she ran off with her hands to her face.

"I didn't even know she had a nose," Atticus scoffed, pretending indifference. He wasn't willing to acknowledge his trust issues or lack of self-confidence.

Brock called for volunteers. Valentine, Galatea, Arden, and Drasil all lined up to be washed. The man took a look at Drasil and shook his head.

"Sorry, pal, but we'd need a fire hose to wash you off."

"You rang?" Glint said, rolling up to them.

"Right. Forgot about that."

"Just like all those times in the desert, eh Brock?" Ash laughed.

"Hilarious."

Glint inhaled deeply and released a Hydro Pump, dousing the tree-like boy. All of the Deltas received scrubbings-down over the next hour, though many of them had to be restrained. They'd never been given baths at the facility; in the sterile environment, disease was slow to spread, and there was no real want for cleanliness.

It might have been enjoyable for Atticus to watch the others struggle, but he was lost in thought. They'd been travelling for several days. It felt like years had passed. Mirage had given up trying to talk to him. He should have felt relieved, but he just felt… miserable.

 _Tap. Tap tap._

Atticus perked up and looked around. Just a woodpecker. His shoulders sagged. This was why he couldn't trust anyone. Not his friends, not the wildlife. No one but himself.

=·=·=·=·=

Ash scratched his head as he watched Pikachu try, and fail, to play with Drasil. It was a strange disparity – they'd invented their own card game, yet struggled to understand basic recreation.

"Hey, Brock, what's up with these guys?" he asked.

"I've been wondering the same thing. I've been talking to Glint and Sweet, and they're using words they couldn't have possibly known if they were really as cloistered as they say. I wonder…" The man shook his head. "Nah."

"What is it?"

"Never you mind. I'll need a lot more information to be sure of anything." Brock walked away, leaving Ash annoyed. He was always being needlessly mysterious. Ash got up and went over to where Pikachu was trying to teach some of the recombinants soccer. The electric mouse whacked the ball with his tail. When Drasil made no motion to intercept, Pikachu sighed.

"Drasil!" Ash called, picking up the ball. "You're supposed to move around."

"Sorry," he muttered blankly. "I'm not sure I understand the point of this."

"There is no _point_. It's just for fun. Here." Ash tossed the ball to him and gestured to a tree which had at some point in the past been split down the middle. "Try to kick this into the goal – between the halves. I'll defend."

=·=·=·=·=

They took an hour or so to rest and eat a few times diurnally; the rest of the day was spent travelling. Night times were the most dangerous. Everyone needed slumber, though the amount varied from species to species – and obviously, they were all different species except for the three humans. Ferrus kept watch. He didn't seem to sleep at all.

Travelling due south from the caves in this fashion, it wasn't long until they reached the outskirts of a place Ash called Viridian City. The humans went into town to restock on supplies, leaving the recombinants to wait furtively in the woods. This 'furtiveness' involved a lot of yelling and screaming, so it was not as stealthy as one might have hoped. Foremost among the noisemakers were Glint and Tiamat.

"Get your slimy tentacles off me, beak-face."

Tiamat giggled and covered him in another layer of goo.

"I'm not a Steel-type, you know! One of these days I'm going to get poisoned, and you're gonna feel real sheepish."

That gave her pause. She backed away, shamefaced. "You're right. I'm… dangerous. I'll just leave you alone." Then, Tiamat ran off.

Glint shook in his shell coldly as he doused himself off, grumbling curses under breath. He jumped no less than two feet in the air when he realized Arden was standing behind him, cross-armed and with a stern expression on his face.

"Gah! How long have you been standing there?"

Arden glared at him. "You need to go apologize."

Glint looked at him incredulously before scoffing. "As if. If Tiamat got her feelings hurt, she deserved it." Glint expected a gasp, or a growl, or a reprimand. He did not, however, expect to be kicked in the gemstone.

"It might not seem like it," Arden said quietly, crouching down next to him as he keeled over, "but Tiamat likes you a great deal… and you just convinced her that she is poisonous. I'm not talking about the Type. So you think about that before you start wallowing in self-righteousness." He stood, shaking his head, and walked away. And Glint thought about it.

=·=·=·=·=

"What're you doing?"

Ezra looked up from her sketchbook to see Valentine's curious face. She smiled. "Just drawing. It's nothing special."

Valentine settled comfortably beside her and leaned over to see what Ezra was talking about. Their calves touched.

"Hey, wait. You're not supposed to–"

"Oh, wow! It looks just like me!"

Ezra turned almost as pink as Valentine's fur. "You weren't supposed to see it yet."

Their eyes met, and an electric current passed between their hips. Valentine didn't understand why her face felt so hot, or why she was having trouble breathing. "Um… I think there's something wrong with me," she gasped.

"What?" Ezra said. "Are you sick?"

"I think I must be." She grabbed Ezra's hand and pressed it against her chest. "Why else would my pulse be abnormally fast?"

Ezra's pink deepened to red. "I'm sorry," she faltered, standing up in a hurry. "I… I can't do this. Not now." She shook her head and walked away quickly, leaving Valentine hurt and confused. What did that have to do with being sick?

=·=·=·=·=

The next morning, they were forced to cut across Route 22. It would have been quicker to use Victory Road, but being host to dozens of expert Pokémon trainers it was far too dangerous for them to cross. They expected an ambush. It was what the ambush consisted of that caught them by surprise.

Kanto's peninsula was in sight when a horde of tall, metallic creatures appeared from behind the gently sloping hills and moved towards them. Within a matter of minutes, they were surrounded. The enemy recombinants were bipedal, with dark brown shoulder pads and legs, and covered in red markings. Extending from the tops of their helmet-like heads were large blades reminiscent of visors with two smaller blades extending from the cutting edge. One of them pointed at Atticus with a massive claw on its steel-glove hand.

"Traitor," it said. "Surrender now or suffer the consequences."

"As if," Atticus retorted, electricity crackling between his fingers.

The leader laughed. "We are immune to your pitiful Thunderbolt. This is a fight you cannot win."

Mirage stepped forward, baring her blades. "Then I'll fight for him."

Atticus looked at her. Something passed between them; a little bit of his fear ebbed away. Even as the army sneered, he nodded. And Mirage charged.

The blades on the opposing recombinants were little more than triangles of steel, dwarfed by her own, but there were dozens of them and only one of her. One might think she was outnumbered, but one would be wrong. Mirage had a distinct advantage over them, Brock realized – her type matchup.

He might've been the only person in the group with both the knowledge and the experience to infer a Pokémon's type simply by the way they battled, but then, he hadn't become a licensed doctor by illiteracy. Favoring dirty gambits and taking full advantage of the terrain, and given the leader's comment about being immune to Thunderbolt, the enemy recombinants had to be both Dark- and Ground-type.

But Mirage? She was both elegant and scrappy. Enemy One charged with a foreswing, which the girl ducked beneath smoothly. Enemies Two and Three doubled up against her, but both were incapacitated in moments. Enemy Four's shadow reached up from the dirt and lashed out at her, but it glanced harmlessly off her chest. This ruled out her being a Psychic-type, which considering her recombination left only one explanation. Mirage was a Fighting/Fairy.

Enemy Five finally landed a blow, smashing his fist into her gut. She gasped and rolled away to catch her breath but was back into the fray in seconds with a slash that sent Five's head rolling. Her eyes shone dangerously, putting the 'rage' in 'Mirage'. Several of the others, realizing their confidence was perhaps misplaced, backed off. The pack leader glared at them.

"You idiots," he said. "If the moves you're using don't work… USE DIFFERENT TYPE MOVES!"

The grunts made sounds of realization and grinned maliciously. Mirage frowned, panting and covered in sweat. There were just too many of them.

Why didn't any of the other Deltas help? They were largely apathetic and selfish. The idea of fighting for a cause beyond their own concerns was foreign and vague. Years of abuse at the hands of the scientists had crippled their sense of camaraderie… but one of them had finally had enough.

"I'm changing faces," Glint muttered. "No more sitting by and letting people get hurt." He rolled forward at high speed and leaped into the air, blocking out the sun in his ascent. "Time to put these bullies on ice!"

A wave of pure cold erupted from the murky depths of his shell and slammed into the clones, snap freezing the air around them and coating their skin with frost. Flecks of snow and ice formed out of the moisture in the atmosphere and swirled into a miniature blizzard. The leader's metal hide creaked and broke, cracks webbing through his body. He fell to the earth, lifeless.

"…Bro?" one of the others asked nervously. "Wake up. Please."

Their leader did not wake up. The surviving enemies fell to their knees. A few of them started crying.

"We're all… monsters," the one cradling their leader in his lap said hollowly, looking up at the Deltas. "Just… go. Go and never look back. There's only death here."

So they did. The humans and Deltas ran. And for the first time, Atticus felt something other than self-righteousness and hatred toward his enemies.

=·=·=·=·=

 _Experiment: 24c1_

 _Codename: None_

 _Recombination: Gardevoir/Gallade_

 _Status: Active_

 _Date of Report: January 3, 19XX_

 _Notes: The genetic mechanism responsible for 'shininess' is still unknown. It is more prevalent among the children Pokémon of international pairings, and 24c1's host mother was from a region separate from those of her germline donors; this fits the paradigm. However, two shinies breeding are not more likely to have a shiny child than two of normal coloration doing the same. Thusly, we believe shininess has to do with the diversity of a Pokémon's gene pool._


	13. Have Hope, Will Travel

_Experiment: 17c3_

 _Codename: Atticus_

 _Recombination: Mew/Human_

 _Status: Active_

 _Date of Report: August 17, 20XX_

 _Notes: Subject is purely Psychic, yet none of the moves it knows are of the same type. The human genome is far too malleable and chaotic. The professors and I were all against its creation but the corporation insisted, having been commissioned by an actress of some renown. 17c3 is, as they say, a designer baby. We told the mother it died shortly after birth and have been testing on it ever since._

=·=·=·=·=

"So I've been thinking a lot about what you said."

Atticus looked up at Ash as he tied a substandard knot with his shoelace. The man had his hands stuck in pant pockets as he gazed at the sky. They were making their final preparations before they crossed Kanto's border. The Deltas were all eager to make new lives for themselves – or rather, to live for the first time. The only one with doubts was Atticus.

Well, that was a given. He doubted everything, especially himself, but this doubt was a novelty among old miseries.

"And?"

"There is a way. But you're not going to like it."

"I'm listening."

Ash grimaced. "It's a sore spot for me, because every time I've tried… I've failed. But if you were to become the Pokémon Champion, you could rewrite the laws of the land. Any of them. But that'd involve going north to the League."

It was a verbal punch to the gut. All the running – all the hiding – all the fear – all could have been avoided if they'd just travelled the opposite direction and fought. The thing they were literally designed to do. Atticus stood shakily and staggered over to where his followers waited.

"Nu, Atticus…" Gal said. "You're looking a little schlocky. You okay?"

"I think…" he muttered. "Change of plans."

"I hate it when he says that."

"It's time to intensify. Yeah." Atticus visibly regained his bearing. His eyes gleamed with determination. "We're going to play their game. But we're playing by our rules. We're gonna head back into the heart of Kanto to take the fight to them."

Their reaction was less favorable than he could have hoped for.

"Bupkes – gornisht – feh!"

"I'm done." Nina threw a knapsack over her shoulder. "You're cute, but not that cute. See ya."

But what broke his heart was when Mirage shook her head and turned away. "Too late to play the hero, Atticus. Many days too late."

The light faded from his eyes as everyone he loved walked away from him. He slowly deflated.

Suddenly, Atticus felt something cool and heavy on his shoulder. The scent of honey and lilac filled his nostrils.

"Are you all mere beasts?" Hecate asked. "The professors claim to be humanity's saviors, but so quickly you forget who actually saved us. And I will stand by him to the ends of the world."

Drasil and Nina shuffled uncomfortably. The other Deltas glanced between their makeshift leader and certain freedom.

Glint rolled forward. "This is the part where I step up, innit? Well, I don't have a leg to stand on, but you know what I mean. Come on, guys! Atticus is a Legendary, and you know it." His gemstone shone with brilliant ruby light as he looked at Tiamat. This was how he'd set things right. "We can do anything together."

Sweet drifted to float beside Atticus. "The bite of steel hurts less than the thought of losing friends," he said quietly, without stuttering. The stem of the cherry atop his head trembled in the breeze.

Arden stepped forward, but paused. He turned to Nina and held out his hand, gazing at her hopefully. She clenched his fist and bit her lip, and slowly took it in her own. One by one, the others moved to stand with their leader. The only one who remained in opposition was Smorgas.

"Smorgas?" Atticus asked. "Kind of the last guy I expected to argue…"

Smorgas didn't say anything.

"Listen. I know it's scary, but–"

Smorgas's head dipped. A snore escaped his mouth.

Atticus stared at the fat teenager incredulously. "Have you been asleep this entire time?" Slowly, the tension in his shoulders dissolved. He smiled.

=·=·=·=·=

"How odd. I cannot see you. Are you…?"

Atticus jolted awake and looked around. Something wasn't right. The others were gone. All the stars were missing from the sky. He jumped as a dark-haired girl appeared out of thin air in front of him. She floated toward him and stopped. Atticus was more than a little freaked out by the spiral pupils in her lavender eyes.

The girl shook her head. "No, you're not the one." And just like that, she disappeared.

Atticus realized his hands were shaking. He wasn't quite sure why. There was nothing particularly frightening about the encounter… but it shook him on a fundamental level. Ghosts and shadows. Unnatural. Something deep inside him was repulsed by the thought.

The trembling subsided. He laid back down, emotions churning inside his gut, and tried to fall asleep. It took a while.

=·=·=·=·=

"Rise and shine, everyone!" Ash called cheerfully, piercing through the recombinant's slumber. "Today's a big day!"

There was a moment of silence as the teens stretched and yawned. Mirage rubbed the gunk from her eyes. The morning tranquility didn't last long.

"Ah!" Sweet yelped. "Too bright!"

"No, Glint, stop it! It's a figure of speech!"

Brock let out a battle cry as he charged at the bivalve with a blanket in hand, tossing it over him. The radiance was extinguished. Too little, too late. Every recombinant was awake. Possibly in the entire world.

Atticus didn't need a second warning. He rose, running his tongue about his mouth in an attempt to wash out the bad taste, and shuffled to where the humans had prepared breakfast.

How odd, to have a meal every morning. Food that actually tasted like food.

He tuned out the chatter of the others and focused on his eggs. Strips of meat and some kind of orange juice in a plastic cup. It felt like something was missing.

"Hey, Atticus," Drasil said, settling beside the table. "You okay?"

"Mm." Atticus slid the eggs around his plate impassively. "I don't really want to talk right now."

Drasil's expression softened. He patted the Mew hybrid on the back and moved away to join the others, leaving Atticus alone with his thoughts.

=·=·=·=·=

Atticus wasn't the only recombinant eating alone. Valentine sat on a tree stump with her head between her knees, embarrassed, ashamed, and confused. Some of the older kids had given her the birds and the bees talk, apparently fed up with her complete naivety.

Her 'crush', as the others had put it, wasn't the only thing weighing her down. She still didn't understand her intended role in the Devon Corporation's grand scheme. Why was she the only one who hadn't been subjected to cruel experimentation? She'd been just as cloistered as anyone, but compared to the scars lining Atticus's abdomen and the stub of Tiamat's eighth appendage, she'd led a life of luxury.

Valentine flinched as Ezra carried her tray over and sat down beside her.

"Hey," Ezra said, pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket. "Look. I shouldn't have pushed you away like I did. I want you to have this."

Valentine shook her head, clenching her fists, but Ezra pried her hands open and pushed the paper at her anyway. It was a drawing of a pink-furred girl with a small egg pouch on her stomach – the same picture Ezra had been working on the other day. Valentine turned red.

"Stop," Valentine stammered. "The others said…" She fell silent.

Ezra took her hand. "What? That girls have to be with guys?"

Valentine nodded.

"Who cares what they think? It shouldn't matter if they care… as long as we do."

The recombinant girl flushed a deeper crimson as Ezra wrapped her arms around Valentine's neck with a mischievous grin. "Oh… I-I don't–"

Not waiting for her to finish, Ezra kissed her. Valentine's eyes widened, then relaxed and closed as she gripped the front of Ezra's shirt. When she pulled away, Valentine was smiling so widely, she almost couldn't kiss her again.

=·=·=·=·=

 _Experiment: 17c3_

 _Codename: Atticus_

 _Recombination: Mew/Human_

 _Status: Active_

 _Date of Report: December 25, 20XX_

 _Notes: Extensive dissection reveals muscular "nodes" containing magnetite crystals found throughout the subject's body that generate piezoelectricity when compressed, which is then absorbed by specialized surrounding cells. When the cells are unable to absorb any more current, the energy spills out in a burst of power._


	14. Each to Understand

_Experiment: 63c2_

 _Codename: Valentine_

 _Recombination: Audino/Chansey_

 _Type: Normal_

 _Status: Missing_

 _Date of Report: March 6th, 20XX_

 _Notes: 63c2 is the most stable recombinant, both physically and emotionally. Designed to be a combat healer, she is equally adept at inflicting the enemy as she is at restoring allies. She will continue to exist long after the other recombinants have all expired._

=·=·=·=·=

Atticus was fast asleep when a metallic roar ripped through the morning tranquility. One of the girls let out a muffled squeal. His eyes flew open as he leaped to his feet. Something in the back of his mind pinged, something too easy about the action, but the thought was fleeting in the face of the massive creature glaring at him with ruby eyes.

The owner of those eyes was a long, snakelike beast with a hide of iron. Its body was partitioned into several boulders, each of which had large, rocky spines jutting out. The massive head seemed to only exist for its strong, wide jaw, lined with massive square teeth.

"A Steelix! I have one of these!"

"Yes, Brock. I know," Ash said.

"But Steelix aren't found in the wild," Brock said as Arden took a tail to the chest. "It must've been abandoned by an ace trainer. That's why it's so angry."

Atticus contemplated the Steelix's anger from a practical, rather than philosophical, standpoint as its tail glanced off him, causing him to stumble. When he moved to confront it, Steelix breathed a stream of indigo dust in his face. He felt his reflexes slow and then stop, a wave of numbness rolling over his body. He snorted a sigh as someone else, probably one of the pranksters, snorted a laugh. Only Glint and Tiamat could laugh in the heat of battle.

"I don't care if it was orphaned by Arceus itself," Mirage muttered, stepping forward with her arms bared. "That's no reason to be a _jerk_." She glared at Atticus.

"I'm sorry, Mirage! I want to make things up to you, but I don't know what to do…" he tried to say, but since he couldn't move his mouth, it came out sounding like, "I ah e, Ira! I ah ooh, oat o ow ooh uh um uh!" No sell.

Mirage sprang for the Steelix, scoring several good gouges before it turned its attention to her. Atticus was helpless to watch as a rock spike raked horizontally across her face. She cried out and fell to the ground with a long, red scar. It might have ruined her appeal for another man. Atticus was not that man. He was equal parts horrified and turned on, like puberty all over again.

As the Steelix lunged for her, Mirage met his eyes, and as she did so, he realized something. He did care what society thought of him… but maybe he could change what they thought. His eyes began flickering with pink light, the glow intensifying as Atticus's face was consumed with resolve. The boy felt it again, the howling quasar buried deep within his soul, screaming for release. Whether through supernatural power, strength of affection, or sheer force of will, every neuron in his body simultaneously reversed the interference dealt to them. Atticus lurched forward. "No!" Atticus leaped between the beast and her, holding an arm out. "This is a _safe place_!"

His heart thumped. Once. Twice.

A wall of liquid light erupted from his fingertips, enveloping the Steelix as it charged. Steelix slowed down, coming to a halt as its forehead met his palm. The two monsters exchanged glares. The Ground-type blinked first.

"Sit! Stay! Haha!" Glint yelled.

Atticus drew his hand away and stared at it in disbelief, in wonder. A new move. Just when he'd started to think he was a one-trick pony.

=·=·=·=·=

The day passed quickly, but the travel was slow. The humans were much less robust than the recombinants and had to rest more often. Battles between ace trainers raged in the distance. There was something unsettling about how intense they were, about how seriously they took the contests. It was reminiscent of the way the professors acted. Atticus found it, and his own previous actions, increasingly disturbing with every moment he had for reflection.

Some of the other Deltas were more fascinated than disturbed. Several of them liked to escape the romantic drama of Atticus, Mirage, Arden, and Nina, watching their extant kin duke it out. Galatea and Drasil lurked in the bushes just behind a hill, peeking over the top to watch a battle between a man with silver hair and a woman with wild, rainbow locks. The upper half of Drasil's body stuck out blatantly, much too tall for the shrubberies he feebly tried to hide in. He felt rather self-conscious about it, but the humans were hyper-focused on their battle.

"Dragonite, use Facade! Get 'em, girl!" the man yelled with a fierce expression, gesturing extravagantly to the bulky, tangerine-scaled creature in front of him. Noxious indigo tar bubbled up from beneath the Pokémon's plates as she stamped her foot and growled, an orange aura flaring to life around her. Dragonite unfurled her teal-membraned wings and charged the opponent, a large purple scorpion with an accordion-like body.

"You can evade this, Drapion, no sweat!" the woman said, smiling.

Drapion's slanted eyes gleamed as it compressed like a spring and launched into the air, somersaulting over Dragonite's energy-sheathed charge. As it reached the apex of its arc, it twisted around and jabbed Dragonite in the back with a poisonous tail. The force of the strike sent Dragonite into the earth. Stone shattered beneath the blow, but Dragonite merely growled and climbed to her feet, flapping her wings irritably.

Gal raised an eyebrow. "That guy's kind of hot."

"Yeah… I guess I can see how gorgeous chocolatey eyes, broad shoulders, and stylish hair would be attract—" Drasil cut off, blinking. "I mean, not that I… uh… ahem."

"What? No. I'm talking about Drapion." Galatea gave him a cat smile, her cow tail swishing behind her as she played with her long, curvy horns. The mane of grass around her neck ruffled in the breeze. "He's a real cutie."

"Oh. Hadn't noticed."

Dragonite backed off as Drapion snapped his pincers at her intimidatingly. She shook herself and looked to her trainer with trusting eyes. He gave her a nod, and somehow, Dragonite managed to expel the poison from her body. Purple liquid dripped to the grass, which withered away as the Pokémon's scales stopped bubbling.

"Whatcha gonna do, Beck? Really think you can beat me?"

"Just watch us, Shissō. Dragonite! Take to the sky, and shake the planet's foundations with an Earthquake!"

The cracking of a spine snapping back into alignment rang out as Dragonite stretched, unfurling her wings. She smirked and slammed them down, a furious flapping that sent her hurtling into the air, buffeting the recombinants with wind even from the hill they hid behind. She did aileron and barrel rolls midair, showing off, before righting herself. Drapion growled. She gave him a big thumbs-up. Then, she stopped flapping.

Dragonite dropped, wings held taut, whistling through the atmosphere. Just before she hit the ground, she raised her arms and _smashed_ into it with enough force to level a city block. A seismic wave of feldspar and granite debris raced at Drapion, simultaneously crashing into him and engulfing him in earth. The trainers stumbled, while Drapion himself had to clench his teeth and take the blow.

The tremors settled. Drapion struggled to rise, muscles shivering, and then, he collapsed.

Shissō gave a reluctant, unhappy laugh. "Well, Beck. You've always been a better trainer than me."

Gal's fighting spirits fell, too. In all the battles she'd seen, the biggest, most powerful combatants came out on top. It seemed there wasn't any hope for her, short and weak as she was, to ever be on the frontlines. Surrounded by heroes and gods, she felt… irrelevant.

Beck frowned. "Come on, Niji… we still have a few Pokémon left." He smiled encouragingly. "It's not over 'til you say so."

Niji took a deep breath and nodded. She reached up and plucked a miniature Pokéball from the bandolier draped across her chest. When she tapped the button, it expanded to full size like a balloon being filled with air. Grit set into her features once again.

"Come on, then!" she said. "Weavile! Let's give it our all!"

Out of the red light, a humanoid Pokémon with black skin and a crown of burgundy feathers appeared. Two additional small, thin feathers adorned each side of her jagged head, the centerpiece of which was a pristine yellow gemstone embedded above her eyes. Weavile beckoned to her opponent with a three-clawed hand and a smirk. Gal knew the Weavile was a girl, somehow, despite her flat chest and muscular body. But what really caught her attention was the Pokémon's size.

 _Weavile was shorten than Gal._

Beck nodded. "That's the spirit. Dragonite, you know what to do. Extreme Speed!"

Dragonite's eyes flashed. A pure, translucent white aura manifested around her, causing her to blur. No – it wasn't the mist blurring her. Dragonite was vibrating, so rapidly that she left an afterimage behind. As Gal and Drasil watched, or tried to watch, Dragonite charged forward with unbelievable velocity, almost faster than the eye could follow, and slamming into Weavile, sending her tumbling, yet Weavile stuck the landing, simply shrugging it off as if nothing had happened.

Gal perked up. Drasil seemed to shrink, eyes wide and shoulders hunched.

"Weavile! Counter with Icicle Crash!"

Weavile hopped into the air and breathed out a sparkling wind. The crystals glistened, clumps of ice coalescing in the wind and forming into sharp icicles, pointing death at Dragonite. She cried out as dozens of frigid blades pelted into her, finding the gaps between scales. A layer of ice deposited onto her skin, rendering Dragonite immobile.

Finally, Niji smiled. "Alright! Now, finish her off with Ice Shard!"

Giving a cocky grin, Weavile raised her hands above her head, generating a glowing sapphire orb. She took a running leap, twisting about in the air in an impressive display of agility, and chucked it with massive force at Dragonite.

Dragonite keeled over as the projectile ball of rimic energy ploughed into her face, shattering the coating of ice on her skin and sending her to the dirt, knocking her out cold. Gal jumped to her hooves, doing a little dance. Drasil stumbled backward, his pupil contracting to a point. He clutched and unclutched his three-clawed hands, turned, and ran.

Drasil was a Rock/Ghost type. He took double damage from no less than six different types, two of which were extremely common and nearly all of which the professors specialized in. His size was the only thing he had going for him. He crashed through the tree branches, which snapped as they were forced aside by his dead, rocky carapace. If even a tiny Pokémon could take down a titan like Drasil… what hope could he possibly have of surviving? He was only a kid. As Drasil reached the campground, he tripped and slid to the ground.

He could feel their stares on him, uncomfortable and speechless. Looking at him. Drilling into him. He was weak. Unneeded and unwanted. A single drop of sap escaped through a crack in the wall he'd built, and with the pressure, the dam yielded.

Then, he sensed a cool, smooth pressure on his shoulder.

"You appear to be in great distress. I did not think such a stoic knight could shed tears. Are you alright?"

Drasil sniffled, looking up. He was momentarily blinded by the light scattered from Hecate's anodized red aluminium-alloy carapace. She was patting him with a crab claw, her compound eyes filled with concern.

"It's nothing," Drasil said, wiping his face. The sap clung to his hands and spread everywhere. Couldn't even clean himself off. "I'm… great."

Hecate wrapped her arms as far around his waist as they'd go, squeezing him. "Yes. You are. Never let anyone convince you otherwise."

"Don't give me fluff! I'm a weakling!"

Her antennae twitched. "You are not weak. You have extraordinary resistance to Poison and immunities to Normal and Fighting moves. At a maximum of exactly four hundred and ninety-three, your Attack statistic is godlike. Additionally, almost no one is resistant to the Rock-type. You are a veritable powerhouse."

Hecate began scraping the slime off his petrified trunk. A sweet, gentle scent rolled over Drasil, soothing his nerves. The way her mandibles clacked together was alien… but somehow, it was also… friendly. Steel hiding silk. Drasil looked up at her.

"But I'm so slow. And my defense…"

Hecate's eyes sparkled. "Did you not know? The best defense is a good offense. We will assist you in finding a way to increase your Speed." She did a little waggle dance before offering a claw to help him up.

Drasil's eye got wet. His mouth split in a jagged-toothed grin as he took her arm, letting her help him climb to his feet. "Thanks. You're an awesome big sis."

Hecate put a claw behind her head, antennae rubbing at her eyes bashfully. She glanced over to where Atticus was talking with Ferrus and Tiamat. "You are most welcome, sirrah. Come. Let us join the others. I believe it is time to eat."

He nodded, following her. The grass crunched under his feet as they approached the others, Hecate buzzing quietly above the ground.

Drasil stopped as a little white butterfly alighted on his trunk, cocking his head. He let out a soft coo, raising a claw to the cute bug, fully expecting it to fly away. To his delight, it instead crawled onto his finger, its feelers tickling him. The butterfly's wings were the same color and even the same pattern as the boring halls of the facility, but somehow, it seemed to have far more splendor. Perhaps it was the contrast of the greens and yellows of the hills and the warm browns of the trees, lending their beauty without losing any of their own. Smiling, he carried it to the table.

Brock was passing out plates of green fish with black-and-red or black-and-blue stripes, big jaws, and white fins, marinated in olive oil and white wine vinegar. The plates were piled high with diced tomatoes, and each fish had red pepper flakes, thyme, and a wedge of lemon on top. The words popped into Drasil's head, seemingly out of nowhere. He must've heard Brock mention it subconsciously.

Ash chuckled. "Where do you find all this stuff? Are you some kind of shady food dealer?"

"That's my little secret," Brock winked, snapping his fingers and pointing to the sky. "Bon appétit!"

Ash rolled his eyes. "You haven't even been to Kalos."

=·=·=·=·=

 _Experiment: 4v20_

 _Codename: None_

 _Recombination: Diancie/Aggron_

 _Type: Rock_

 _Status: Failed_

 _Date of Report: March 6th, 20XX_

 _Notes: Part of the discontinued Vertigo project. Attempts to create a Fairy/Steel defensive powerhouse failed spectacularly. 4v20 suffers from Klinefelter syndrome, possessing two X and a Y chromosome, and bears only vague resemblance to its parent species. The administration has deemed it harmless; thus, it is to be released in the Lyusiyan tundra._


End file.
